There was an old salesman; a peddler, he called himself
Who came to stay at my house when I was a boy
When he was on
His last business trip
To him we were strangers
One day
I asked the old salesman
If I could borrow his penknife.
He lent it to me
And when I tried to return it to him
He did not remember that it was his.
When I asked my troubled father
What I should do
He told me to keep it.
Someday I may give
That peddlers penknife
To my grandson
And I will tell him about the time
My grandfather gave it to me
When he was on
His last business trip.
Dec 2, 2010
Dec 2, 2010 at 7:32 AM UTC
There was an old salesman; a peddler, he called himself
Who came to stay at my house when I was a boy
When he was on
His last business trip
To him we were strangers
One day
I asked the old salesman
If I could borrow his penknife.
He lent it to me
And when I tried to return it to him
He did not remember that it was his.
When I asked my troubled father
What I should do
He told me to keep it.
Someday I may give
That peddlers penknife
To my grandson
And I will tell him about the time
My grandfather gave it to me
When he was on
His last business trip.
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