Crooked Man

5-23-2000

There was a crooked man
Who wore a crooked smile.
On crooked legs and crooked back
He'd walk a crooked mile.

On his crooked journeys,
He'd pick up crooked pins.
He'd take them home and straighten them out,
Then he'd crook them back again.

He'd pray to crooked Gods,
Upon his crooked knees,
His crooked hands in crooked prayer,
Rubbing crooked beads.

The crooked Gods would smile,
And crack their crooked grins.
In his sleep they'd straighten him out
Then crook him back again

There was a crooked man
Who walked his path alone,
For everyone loves a straightened man
Not one with crooked bones.