Enter the home of Morton Mallician
Embalmer, director and friendly mortician
But the business is slow
When the census is low
So he works every night as a Children’s Magician
Morton Mallician, a man of ambition
He set up his acts, the whole coalition
His doves and his gloves
His rabbits and hats
His scarvay and larvae
And nonsense like that
Enter the home of Timmy and Ted,
The stone-faced tots from Pepperstead.
As the hearse rolled by,
They gave a cry
That nearly wakes the dead!
Mallician never misses a beat
His acts are all timed, his animals neat.
A magician’s secret, I must confide
The Bunny is full of formaldehyde.
They give him their hands
They jump and they cheer
For he seems to have made
Grandma Rose disappear!
You don’t approve?
You shake your head?
You think this man is rotten?
There are hobbies worse than this,
At least he's not a ventriloquist!
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