On the street
Slung on his shoulder is a handle half way across,
Tied in a big knot on the scoop of cast iron
Are the overalls faded from sun and rain in the ditches;
The Broom and the Shovel, the Poker and Tongs,
They all took a drive in the Park,
and they each sang a song, Ding-a-dong, Ding-a-dong,
The Poker proposed to the shovel
That they should be man and wife,
'I think,' said he, 'that we could agree
As we journey along through life.'
Sometimes I think about my Uncle Robert.
That wasn't really his name, but I will call him
that here for reasons which will become apparent.
Like coal is shovelled in mines,
Like dirt is shovelled in street,
Like sand is shovelled in shore,
You shovel sins as much you can.
when you quit being
awed by living...
then you are already dead.
when you have no more to give,
I keep a shovel in my heart
to bury the sadness in my life
and cultivate a garden of happiness
sometimes I dig holes in my heart
Oh, the weather outside is frightful,
And this storm is not delightful.
I'm stuck, and my car won't go.
Shovel snow, shovel snow, shovel snow!
Who cares about the pick and shovel man
Who cares if others use him as a tool
It's part of the aristocratic plan
To keep the poor man working like a mule.