If Heaven has some old pawn shops,
And I’m told they prob’ly do;
They better bring out brooms and mops,
And scrub them through and through.
Cause as of Wednesday, August Two,
Change came up there, they tell,
A stranger came, his face was new,
But pawn shops knew him well.
If any carpenters all old and gray,
Would seek some bargain tools,
Like channel locks or pliers, let’s say,
Or wires or sliding rules,
Or any other stuff real cheap,
They must hope for greater luck,
Their dreams of fortune they must keep,
‘Cause the new guy knows a buck!
He’ll find the good stuff before they do,
He’ll have it tucked away.
He’s scoured ev’ry shop he knew
I’ve followed him ‘round all day!
He’s quite a welder, so they say,
With that must I agree,
And he has the finest metal shop:
The best you’ll ever see.
The barns and sheds so strong and bright,
Across the county wide,
Were built by him—they’re quite a sight!
And looked upon with pride.
His proudest work—real first class,
At the nudie club ‘twas thought:
The dancing pole of shiny brass,
Skillfully he wrought.
He had to check it many nights,
To see if it would hold
Those whirling girls without their tights,
As round and round they rolled.
He’ll have the best shop up there too.
The racks and tools will glow,
There won’t be any junk or goo
On shelves or down below.
A final prize he’ll carry ‘long,
And this you’d want to see:
Olympic pins from ninety-six,
There must be ninety-three!
Old Robert was a mighty friend,
I’ll miss him terribly.
He stuck by us until the end,
In peace his rest must be.