Says the man in the yellow t-shirt

With the suitcase on his head,

"I am a fiddlestick seller, miss

Won't you buy one please?"

I pretend to think about it

But my smile gives me away

He knows I'm just a teaser

And he shuffles on, dismayed.

This was twenty years ago

But still, I'm told he sells

His fiddle-sticks to misses

Along the railway bend.