A boy prefers a crowd of older folks
He will bow
Holds a snow cane parallel to the stone
To the boardwalking elders it`s a magic microphone
Sing a warning song
He sounds just like Perry Como
Tie a sweater to his hips
And hang tight to the flagpole
His feet kick out to the threatening sky
Too young for prediction they`re ignoring his signs
He was just for decoration just a little entertainment
We`ve gotta go back to the beach
before we hear the halt of summer screech
Every one has something that they`d like to see torn down
Oh but not this small house that has walked upon stilts
Nor the roller rink or bakeries that have shuttered up since
Oh Isabel as I make my way home my baritone is guaranteed gold
But it was just an aberration just the wind at my throat
I rode into a car door
Into the bushes I was thrown
They were just for decoration
How was I to know