I hear Albert Einstein's eyeballs
Are packed away in a lock box
Somewhere in New York City
Under golden key and lock

I can't help but wonder
About what it is he sees
Stuffed in that darkened rectangular box
For all of eternity

Do they pull them out and dust them off
Every now and then
Let them look around without a sound
A wink without a grin

Are they kept inside a pickle jar
Or do they roll around freely
These are a few of the questions
That keep confounding me

Do they MC square as they sit there and stare
Do they soak them in Visine
They must dry out rather quickly
With no way to possibly blink

Why would they save Albert's eyeballs
What could they possibly find
Unless they just love the color
Of the brown tint in his eyes