Eavesdropping

Eavesdropping on the chimney pot
I wonder what he hears    
I know he won't tell    
I've asked before    
respecting him for that.    
He coos and smiles    
as pigeons do,    
his eyes are made for smiling,    
we should remember that    
cry less and laughter more    
un-crease our brow smooth the skin    
no need for cosmetic plaster.    
Oh! he's gone to search the fields    
gleaning oats and barley    
tells his mate of what he's heard.    
Do you fancy cabbage?    
Come on then to number ten,    
there's peas as well, beware the cat    
the dogs alright; but watch the hawk    
I wouldn't tell him what the butcher said    
or who he said it to,    
but the curtains of number ten are drawn    
and his van is at the back.    
A slice of bacon won't be missed,    
more than one no doubt.