Workman Abe always left his tools for you.
His hammer, his level, his wrench, his nails.
His electric drill, clamps, vice grips, screws too
Left them hither and yon, habit never fails.
From Timbuktu to Hackensack his stuff he lends.
Some called him up to give him back his stuff.
Unconcerned, he said that’s okay; keep them my friends.
Workman Abe simply did not care, his habits rough.
If he came back to do another job, of course he left his tools.
Knowing that you might call him back; worked well for renewals.
To mend a broken heart you need
Some sticky tape and glue
Electric drill and hammer
And a quite substantial screw
Collect up all the shattered shards
And stick each damaged part
Wrap them up in tape and soon
You’ll have a working heart
But, if you’ve tried this method
And the technique’s not been mastered
Forget the hurt, put on your shirt
Then go out and get plastered