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Here is the tale of a Jewish hardware-store man
   who guards the flame of his faith as best he can
in a remote corner of the Upper Midwest
   where the count of practicing Jews is two at best

Our protagonist travels East, to Crown Heights, New York
   where Jews never eat cheeseburgers, shrimp or pork
Among his brethren, so happy, he seeks out a blessing
   from the great Rebbe of Lubavitch, a man unprepossessing

The line at the Rebbe's is really quite long
   for so many come to see him, to help right their wrongs
When the hardware-store's man turn finally comes
   he puffs out his chest, and he bangs his own drum

Rebbe, he boasts, I'm from a tiny hamlet in the Midwest
   where my wife and I are the only Jews who pass all the tests
We keep strictly kosher, keep the Sabbath; we never do stray
   As for our fellow Jews there, we can only cry and pray

The Rebbe nods and smiles, but before wishing him good-day
   says, And I see you're determined to keep things that way!
Shaken, the hardware-store man is rendered speechless
   He understands the great Rebbe has so much to teach us...

For the pupils of the Rebbe's eyes, gleaming pinpoints of coal
   ~ Stare directly and deeply, into every man's soul

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