This Is The Lyrics To The Song The Librarian By John Connolly I Think!

THE LIBRARIAN
John Connolly

One fine Monday morn as I sat at my desk
In the old public library down in the square,
In came an old woman all heavily laden
With baskets of groceries costly and rare.

"And what can I do to help and assist you?"
Says I unto her with a laugh and a smile.
"It's a book that I'm wanting," says she "for I hear
You've the finest selection in many's the mile!"

"Well now, let me guess as to what you'll be needing
To suit a fine lady as such as yourself.
And what can compare with a romantic novel?"
So quickly I reaches one down from the shelf.

"Now here's a fine tale of a handsome brain surgeon
Whose body's confused and his mind's in a rage
Until he meets up with a fair pretty maiden
And the wedding bells chime on the very last page!"

"That's not what I'm wanting at all," says the lady.
"In truth for to tell you the book's not for me,
But it was me husband who sent me to find
If you had any books on pornography!"

"If it's pornography that you're wanting," says I,
"Then you're in the right place as you'll very soon see,
For under me counter all wrapped in brown paper
Are dirtiest books in the whole country!"

"Lady Chatterley's Lover, Last Exit in Brooklyn,
The Old Perfumed Garden and Carnal Desire,
And every book is bound in asbestos
For fear your hot breath sets the pages on fire!

"We've Swedish au pair's all wrapped up in leather
And handsome transvestites both gallant and gay,
And every perversion that's known unto man
And it's all the rates; there's no money to pay!"

"I think there must be some mistake," says the lady.
"I'm sure that's not what I'm wanting indeed.
My husband's a pawnbroker and not a sex fiend,
And I am sure that's not what he's wanting to read.

"Oh, he heard about pawn-ography from a friend,
And I think that some comical error he's made,
For hearing the word and not knowing its meaning,
Well, he thought it had something to do with his trade!"

Now the pawnbroker's wife she was highly amused
When with rage I began for to stamp and to swear,
So I picked up a copy of Portnoy's Complaint
And I told her to stick it the-devil-knows-where.

But out of adversity comes opportunity--
So the old prophets and sages do say--
And the Pawnbroker's tale, well it caused great amusement
When told to me colleagues the very next day;

And, being well known as a writer of songs
That is written on broadsheets and lavatory walls,
I went home to my digs and I wrote down this ditty
And I called it the Tale of the Man with Three Balls!