Mr. Tinker was a tailor And he had a neon sign above his door And he cooked his meals and he tried to sleep In a two room shack directly behind the store Above his dresser was a picture of his wife who passed awa-aa-ay And next to that there was a picture of the boy who couldn’t sta-aa-ay Mr. Tinker was a jealous man And he never smiled to the people who came to the store And he envied them for the lifes they lived and the fun they had And the colorful things they wore It isn’t easy for a tailor when there’s nothing left to sew He wishes he could mend his life but then there’s no one left to show Pa-pa-pa-para-pa-pa-pa, poor Mr. Tinker Pa-pa-pa-para-pa-pa-pa, poor Mr. Tailor Mr. Tinker was a tailor And the tailor has a well respected trade But who needs Mr. Tinker When all the suits you buy are already made Pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa, poor Mr. Tinker Pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa, poor Mr. Tailor by: José Duarte [email protected]