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The Last Organ Grinder
Down the faithful brick stones he goes with his favorite monkey Spiff
through the alley where twilight glints soon turn from pinkish to gold
beneath a yawning sun. Bringing forth a new day, Tee Hee the nonpareil of his industry is an enigma to the passing crowds. An unravelled mystery that shows up at the break of dawn, and plays until the torches of a liquid day pour into lunchtime. Then the chink chink of coins arrive. At the drop of a hat they both perform, for the sake of a handful of coins.
music is the haven of Kings
an organ grinder's swing
and a monkey's right wing
A little orphan girl comes around with a small calico blue pie
that she found in the dumpster both broken and mushed to the pulp.
She sits herself down and with eyes round as frying pans she watches
as the monkey brings the hat to his nose to chase away her woes
Thrown like a star into a vast sleep
she opens her eyes to take a peek
Gazing at tranquility she falls in deep
Hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy gurdy he plays on, as if it were his song
"Roly poly, roly poly, holy poly poly" he sings on
All the street clowns disappear, and as time stands still,
a young beating heart listens,
for the sound of a cranking pipe organ, while a savvy monkey
who knows his worth, quietly rakes in a small fortune.
Copyright ©
Mystic Rose Rose
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