Where can a man buy a cap for his knee?
Or a key for the lock of his hair?
And can his eyes be called a school?
I would think—there are pupils there!
What jewels are found in the crown of his head,
And who walks on the bridge of his nose?
Can he use, in building the roof of his mouth,
the nails on the ends of his toes?
Can the crook of his elbow be sent to jail—
If it can, well, then, what did it do?
And how does he sharpen his shoulder blades?
I’ll be hanged if I know—do you?
Can he sit in the shade of the palm of his hand,
and beat time with the drum in his ear?
Can the calf of his leg eat the corn on his toe?—
There’s somethin’ pretty strange around here