I was in a little bar in Austria one evening last week and in walked a Herr wearing a brimmed hat and a long grey overcoat dripping with rain. He ordered a großes bier, a glass of mandelschnapps, and then sat himself down in a shadowy corner to read his copy of Volksstimme. It looked as though he was trying hard to be inconspicuous which is a sure way of getting yourself noticed. He didn't stay long, just half an hour or so, but when he'd left I realised that it wasn't raining outside and that it hadn't rained all day.
Mr Shadow
Let’s talk
about Mr Shadow
An inconclusive fellow
Comes out
in the sunshine
Flits out in the
moonshine
Spends most
of his free time
Dodging from sunny climes
The voice
of a stage mime
He could be
a paradigm
Mr Shadow
He looks a trifle shallow
Yes, let’s speak
of Mr Shadow
An
insubstantial bedfellow
He’s not
quite all there
Doesn't sit easy in a chair
Does he wear underwear?
Best
never to stare
Just in case he's not there
He seems made of air
Mr Shadow
Complexion a custard sallow
So now we know Mr Shadow
In temperament
somewhat mellow
He'll be one
step behind
He's so
hard to find
With his air
quite refined
Yes, he’s one of
a kind
To shyness inclined
So bear
that in mind
Mr Shadow
A wisp of pale marshmallow
A wisp of pale marshmallow
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