Uncle Horace

Uncle Horace is a little strange.

He showed up here last April and just stayed.

Every 5 am he’s gone for his stroll to greet the dawn

And when we get up he’s got our breakfast made.

Uncle Horace likes his peppermint tea.

And, as for alcohol, I’ve never seen him stewed.

And he doesn’t smoke or curse.

He’ll say ‘Nuts” or when it’s worse

He’ll say “sugar”, ”cheese” or other names for food.

Uncle Horace .

He doesn’t watch TV . He’d rather read a book.

He totally ignores the latest fashions.

He’s got his special Uncle Horace kind of look.

Uncle Horace doesn’t go for rock

Except a very rare, uncommon song.

Though he does play the guitar

And has this far-out repertoire

The kind of songs you wanna sing along.

Uncle Horace talks to cats and dogs.

He gets them like celebrities draw crowds.

And he listens to the birds

As if their warblings were words.

He reads the sky and tells the weather by the clouds.

Uncle Horace.

At a video arcade the man is dead.

He doesn’t use a calculator either.

He adds and subtracts in his head.

(Do you believe it?)

Uncle Horace is a little strange.

He loves to listen when you’re puzzled or depressed.

So when I need advice

Or a little love, I don’t think twice.

I go to Uncle Horace he’s the best.