He smiled and rubbed the stubble on his chinHe sure shall find the weariness and dreariness of life that's growing thinYet he didn't have so very far to goWith a pencil in his hand he will travel on as plannedWith a mere step in the mountain to a lightCraise Finton Kirk, see him go, on his wayOh they don't know where he isVery very nice, very very niceEven in the morning when he sleptSomething odd is missingThere's nothing very much to talk aboutAnd nothing very much to seeCraise Finton Kirk, see him go, on his wayoh they don't know where he isVery very nice, very very niceTalks about the place he'd like to goAnd you never see the worrying and hurrying and that makes a person slowYet you wouldn't think he'd be so hard to findYet he looks so very busy but there's nothing on his mindAnd his wavy hair continues not to growCraise Finton Kirk, see him go, on his wayoh they don't know where he isVery very nice, very very niceCraise Finton Kirk, see him go, on his wayOh they don't know where he isVery very nice, very very nice
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