Mr. Tinker was a tailor

And he had a neon sign above his door

And he cooked his meals and he tried to sleep

In the one room shack directly behind the store



Above his dresser was a picture of his wife who passed awa-aa-ay

And next to that there was a picture of the boy who couldn't sta-aa-ay



Mr. Tinker was a jealous man

And he never smiled to the people who came to the store

And he envied them for the lifes they lived and the fun they had

And the colourful things they wore



It isn't easy for a tailor when there's nothing left to sew

He wishes he could mend his life but then there's no one left to show



Pa-pa-pa-para-pa-pa-pa, poor Mr. Tinker

Pa-pa-pa-para-pa-pa-pa, poor Mr. Tailor



Mr. Tinker was a tailor

And the tailor has a well respected trade

But who needs Mr. Tinker

When all the suits you buy are already made



P-|a-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa, poor Mr. Tinker

P-|a-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa, poor Mr. Tailor