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Strumpledon wore a crumpled dinner suit,
A tall white pointed hat,
White winkle pickers,
Extra large white gloves,
And that was that.
Korky walked the bustling streets
Fuelled from litter bins and handouts.
Crossed the traffic river rapids
Without so much as a look,
Oblivious to the shouts.
Korky always carried a wooden crate,
That once held twenty four premium beers.
Sometimes, at an intersection, he would stand on it
Directing the traffic into pandemonium,
Bowing to bystander cheers.
Police would take him away
Feed him, pass the time, let him go.
Korky Strumpledon - the city character,
Walked out on his family.
Had no choice, this was a long time ago.
His two boys watched cartoons
His wife, Thelma, prepared the tea,
And asked Korky to go get some milk.
He was out of work, so did many chores
With doleful acceptability.
Needless to say, he never went back,
He had already lost them, that, he knew.
Shortly afterwards whilst working backstage
For food, in a rundown theatre,
He lost his mind, or rather, it slipped askew.
Donning his present garb, from a basket
Of cast offs, he went on to find his role.
For a couple of years now, he's gained recognition,
"Hey Korky, how ya doin'?"
King Korky of street life, just takin' his
Korky was served the best meal of his life.
He unwinds in a chair, that has a woman's embrace.
The man opposite wants to know all about him,
So Korky spills all and the audience
Korky Strumpledon, has become a TV face.
Just as he did, when he went for the milk,
Once again, Korky never looked back.
He now hosts his own show,
Shares a house with contentment...........
Seems like his life is back on track.
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