THE SAD STORY OF MR. PLUM

Born to the circus was poor Mr. Plum,
Never glum,
Although he had a one foot leg, a one foot trunk, and a head going one foot high.
He juggled daggers without pause,
And sent them flashing through the sky.
Always a child, never a man,
Dear Mr. Plum, the dwarf.

He courted Big Bella, the bareback rider,
And tried her.
He juggled, she rode, they coupled in fun, and soon were parents of a laughing son,
Who caught their days and stole their nights,
They called him Gabriel by the sun.
Always a child, never a man,
Proud Mr. Plum, the dwarf.

Sweet Gabriel brought joy for seven years
Past all fears
Then, suddenly, to the dwarf's dismay, his brilliant boy grew taller day by day,
Til soon the son outgrew the sire,
And joy to jealousy gave way.
Always a child, never a man,
Sad Mr. Plum, the dwarf.

Now Mr. Plum grew sick and cold with envy,
Til one night, the moon in his head, moaning in he wished his son dead,
A roar of wrath, he flashed his knife,
And severed Gabriel’s head.
Always a child, never a man
Mad Mr. Plum, the dwarf.

As a favour to the size of the condemned
Like a friend
The hangman built a shorter fall, but the mad dwarf, shouting, shattered the pall...
“No! I want to die like a man!”
And the hangman heeded his call.
No longer a child, at last a man, Poor Mr. Plum, the dwarf, the dwarf, the dwarf....

Lyrics: Gordon Sheppard
Music: Robert Charlebois

©1970 Merica Music Inc.