deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Little Button Man
Once I met
The little button man,
Dressed all in brown,
The little button man.
“How do you do?” I asked
The little button man.
“Very well, very well,” sang
The little button man.
“Where do you live?” I asked
The little button man.
“In the laundry, in the laundry,” sang
The little button man.
“What do you do?” I asked
The little button man.
“Snitch the socks, snitch the socks,” sang
The little button man.
“Why do you snitch?” I asked
The little button man.
“No matches, no matches,” sang
The little button man.
“Where do you go?” I asked
The little button man.
“No answer, no answer,” sang
The little button man.
Then skipped away
The little button man.
Never seen him since,
And never shall again.
The little button man,
Dressed all in brown,
The little button man.
“How do you do?” I asked
The little button man.
“Very well, very well,” sang
The little button man.
“Where do you live?” I asked
The little button man.
“In the laundry, in the laundry,” sang
The little button man.
“What do you do?” I asked
The little button man.
“Snitch the socks, snitch the socks,” sang
The little button man.
“Why do you snitch?” I asked
The little button man.
“No matches, no matches,” sang
The little button man.
“Where do you go?” I asked
The little button man.
“No answer, no answer,” sang
The little button man.
Then skipped away
The little button man.
Never seen him since,
And never shall again.
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