A Crooked Little Town
On a crooked little street in a crooked little town
Lived an old man named Wilmington Brown
Willy or Wills, his friends used to say
But all of his friends have now gone away
Wilmington Brown was the last in his bunch
Alone for dinner, breakfast and lunch
Sometimes someone would knock on his door
Selling subscriptions to Home and Decor
“You don’t need me”, is what he would say
“And I don’t need you, now please go away”
That was Wilmington’s common refrain
Saying it often in sunshine or rain
“You don’t need me”, is what he would say
“And I don’t need you, now please go away”
In that same crooked town in a crookeder lane
Freddy McShane was alone with his brain
Freddy was eight but he looked much smaller
His brothers were bigger, and his sisters were taller
They called him shorty, scrawny or squirt
It was all just a joke, but sometimes it hurt
Alone with his brain, he imagined great things
Dragons and leopards and snowflakes and kings
He thought of these things, he thought with his brain
That was the life of Freddy McShane
But his most special thing, that he would think of
A song he made up, a song about love
Sometimes at night, when he felt sadder
He sang that song, and always felt gladder
He sang that song, as he looked at the moon
His own special words with his own special tune
His song helped with sadness, his song helped with fear
But he was too shy, to let anyone hear
He kept that song hidden, locked up in his head
With a make-believe key hidden under his bed
One day when Freddy was walking around
He walked past the house of Wilmington Brown
He heard all the stories, of the man who lived there
A grumpy old man with grumpy white hair
“I’m sure there’s a person, not a monster in there”
“He probably reads books in his favorite chair”
“He might like Ice Cream, with nuts or just plain”
Those were the thoughts of Freddy McShane
So he knocked on the door, pulled a chain for the bell
A Grumpy old voice, it was him, he could tell
“Who knocks on my door, who’s pulling the chain?”
“Hello Mr. Brown, I’m Freddy McShane”
Mr Brown grunted, “for guests I’m not ready”
“And on top of that, I don’t know a Freddy”
“You don’t need me”, he continued to say
“And I don’t need you, now please go away”
But Freddy McShane did not go away
He had just one question he needed to say
“Mr. Brown,” said young Freddy, “I won’t be long”
“I just want to know. What’s your favorite song?”
There was such a song, it was part of his life
A song from the past that he sang with his wife
They met at a park, when they were just seven
And held hands through life, till she went to heaven
It was their special song, he hadn’t sung it in years
Just the thought of that song had brought him to tears
Then he dried off his face and stood up so proud
He sang that old song and he sang it out loud
Freddy just loved it, it was catchy and bold
It didn’t sound grumpy, it didn’t seem old
He asked Mr. Brown, as he talked through the door
“Please sir,” he said, “can you sing it some more?”
Well that old song got inside Freddy’s head
He sang it at lunchtime, he sang it in bed
He sang that old song every place that he went
He sang that old song while his dad paid the rent
Then a funny thing happened to that song sung by Fred
That song got inside everyone's head
The town sang that song, more than Freddy had dreamed
That crooked little town was not so crooked, it seemed
Wilmington Brown by his window he stood
When he heard his old song ringing out through the wood
The whole town was singing his song he held dear
So he opened his window, just so he could hear
It made him feel happy, it made him feel young
The whole town was singing this song he had sung
He knew who had done it, “oh what’s his name?”
Then he remembered, Freddy McShane
So the next time that Freddy McShane walked by
Wilmington opened his door and said “hi”
Then he asked little Freddy as he walked along
“Tell me young Fred, what’s your favorite song?”
Well Freddy’s own song was behind lock and key
But perhaps it was time to set his song free
He looked at the man and looked at the sky
He took a deep breath and let his song fly
Mr Brown thanked the lad, for opening his heart
And for helping this old man with a new start
He said he was sorry for those he mistreated
And that this little song was just what he needed
After that time he let people in
They’d sit by the fire, the stories they’d spin
They talked about elephants, sunsets and more
And flipped through the pages of Home and Decor
Freddy came over no matter the weather
They sang their two songs and they sang them together
Old Mr. Brown and the young lad Freddy
Had some hot tea and two bowls of spaghetti
Then came the day when Mr. Brown got sick
He called for young Freddy who came over quick
Freddy sang his little song, he knew he should bring it
Mr Brown cracked a smile though was too weak to sing it
That sweet, sweet song was the last thing he heard
Wilmington Brown died on April the third
He died with that wonderful song in his head
A song sung to him by that little boy Fred
And Freddy McShane? Well he was no squirt at all
Because of his friend he stood fourteen feet tall
Sometimes he wondered just what he might be
Maybe a doctor, or perhaps on TV
He was sure there was something, he just didn’t know it
Maybe a teacher or maybe a poet
But one thing he knew, as he settled down
He wanted to be like his friend Willy Brown
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