The Kid

The Kid put on his mackintosh, And fiddled with the belt. "It's not the way it used to be," He said, and if you'll pardon me, I do believe he told the truth, Because that macky smelt. The Kid put on his Homburg (black), And worried at the brim, "This isn't mine it's poorly made," He said, and in the Homburg's shade, The grass came up between his toes And one day covered him. The Kid went back to Birmingham To see his family. But they had gone without a trace. They'd vanished into outer space. Which goes to show you what can happen. Dum-de-dum-de-de.