The Weatherstones Of Fairview
Every day I sit outside
on a bench in Fairview park.
I crunch and munch my breakfast, and
I can't help but remark,
'My, oh, My! What a sight to see,
is that the living dead?'
'No it's just the Weatherstones,'
is what a man nearby had said.
The pair were ugly, like my sins,
in matching caps of red.
I wish they'd just�replace those hats
with a bag upon each head.
Still every day I sit outside
on a bench down Fairview way.
I watch the couple rambling by,
what a sight to see, I must say.
Hand in hand, and
heart in heart,
Lord knows they'll never
Not rain nor snow could pull apart
that couple so in love:
'Ugly and Unsightly,'
they fit each other like a glove.
Yet every day I sit and wait
for the Weatherstones, you see,
they give me hope that there's still someone
for ugly, lonely me.