He's a miniature philosopher

He stands five foot three

So no one takes him seriously

He's in love with Gertrude Lullaby

But she doesn't care for him

He's like a house boy

to Miss Lullaby

And their future looks very dim



He's a miniature philosopher

He takes notes on all he reads

But that doesn't satisfy his needs

He's a desk clerk at the bank and trust

There's so many contracts and paperwork to do

He gets so busy at the bank and trust

There is no time for Nietzsche or Camus



He's a miniature philosopher

He writes essays on Voltaire

But if he died no one would care



He doesn't know why his life turned out this way

No one ever reads his dissertations or allegoric plays

So he comforts himself while searching a rhyme

That the public rarely recognize a genius in their time

(poor little guy)

He's a miniature philosopher

Though he hasn't got a friend

He's sure he'll be famous in the end