Born on the 2nd of the 2nd, 1922,
old man at the bus-stop likes to chat,
come to my house and see my collections,
and just across the road, a treasure trove
of figurines and ornaments,
of animals and birds,
each piece sparkling its brilliance
in showcases packed full,
old man no longer at the bus-stop,
and just across the road
the lonely house stands silent,
guarding its abandoned crystal palace
that sparkles for no one.