A Very Handy Man
Tap tap-tap-tap tap-tap
He hunts and pecks his words
Each one seems a struggle
Just to get the ink to the paper
He does this incessantly
From four in the morning until noon
Everyday.
What’s he writing in there?
I see him leave every afternoon
Always the same clothes and shoes
Where is he going?
He’s gone for hours
And then suddenly he’s back.
That bicycle full of sacks
Some from True Value
Others from Wally World
And even some from a woman’s boutique
What’s he doing in there?
From 9:00 PM till midnight
I hear voices and music playing
But no one come or goes
It appears to be just him.
And then it settles down to the click clack
Of an old typewriter and the silence of a lamb
What’s he writing in there?
What’s he doing in there?
Someone needs to know
He’s not a troublemaker
But someone needs to know
Someone needs to know
Someone needs to know.
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