Tim Lane - Send for the Nice Young Man Lyrics

MR WEIRD

Here comes Mr Weird
A purple ribbon in his beard
In his hand a bucket full of bones
He's walking down the street
Laughing gamely at his feet
And talking to a lightbulb on the phone
Trailing memories behind
He's got dinner on his mind

Here comes Lady Strange
In her Sunday paper plane
A golden turbot painted on each wing
She's whistling a tune
As she waves her silver spoon
She always has enjoyed this sort of thing
As she spins around the sky
No-one can see her passing by

Send for the nice young man who brings the cheese
Let his name be Morris or maybe Rhys
If he's a priest

Here comes Uncle Lard
You can see he's working hard
By the trail of dead squirrels everywhere
As he comes round the bend
His arms and legs start to extend
With a mighty leap he springs into the air
It's been four and twenty years
Since we last saw him round here

Send for the nice young man who brings the cheese
Let his name be Morris or maybe Rhys
If he's a priest

And meanwhile back in the waking world
Your powers grow weak old man
There are things going down
On the darkside of town
You can never understand

Send for the nice young man who brings the cheese
Let his name be Morris or maybe Rhys
If he's a priest