Ololo

He writes rhymes for his friends' children
Dotes on mystery stories
And at the slightest provocation
He sings slightest provocation
He sings folk songs of key and in key
Here and there people sat on benches
Reading newspapers or straining
Their faces to the sun, their eyes closed
Trying to catch a bit of sunburn
To carry home proudly
He pulled his feet under his bench
He pulled his feet under his bench
As he was ashamed of his shoes
His dog loves to walk and travel in cars
In planes, on rafts
Elevators and on escalators
Then we’ll let some daylight into
It for once if it kills us right on the spot
No sort of middle state
No easy jog trot with him
If he never wrote when he wasn’t in the mood
He would make no headway
Ololo
Ololo
Ololo
Ololo
Here and there people sat on benches
Reading newspapers or straining
Their faces to the sun, their eyes closed
Trying to catch a bit of sunburn
To carry home proudly
Ololo
Ololo
Ololo
Ololo
Ololo
Ololo
Ololo
Ololo