Derek likes to talk for hours.
He knows the Latin names of flowers.
He'll lecture them on lawns and life.
He talks when walking with his wife.

They walk each day at eight o' clock.
The neighbours kids still call him Spock.
He pretends he doesn't hear.
He thinks he looks like Richard Gere,

And not like Spock. He's sure of that,
Especially when he wears a hat
To hide his ears and hair and head,
A new roof for his mental shed.

It's full of odds and ends he stores.
He'd out-bore the biggest bores
With stories, facts and histories
That seem to solve life's mysteries,

Or at least they'll drain away
Your will to live and love and stay
Wide awake to take in life,
To be as sharp as any knife.

He'll make you want to fall asleep,
And he's as good as counting sheep
For making eye-lids cover eyes.
His voice is like a humming noise.

With eye-lids closed, the curtains drawn,
The room in darkness until dawn,
The dream's projector fills the screen,
Starring cats and Charlie Sheen.

He dreams of being in a book.
He'd fill the boots of some bad crook,
A man found in the works of Dickens,
Or someone known for stealing chickens,

A man adept at picking pockets.
He'd steal the eye balls from eye sockets
Without their owners noticing
Until they stand and go to bring

The sheets and clothes in from the line,
Or when they need a glass of wine.
They reach out for the bottle and
They look but fail to see their hand.

They realise their eyes aren't there.
They curse the man who stole their stare.
They try to form a glare or glint,
A sense of menace, just a hint,

But strong enough to burn a hole,
To make their eyes like red hot coal
Within the pocket of the thief,
To burn his hand and bring him grief.

Their own two eyes are then bought back,
Selected from a long eye-rack
In an eye-stall in the square.
They're guaranteed to last a year.

They'll buy the eyes and wear them home.
They're free again to freely roam
Over moors and hills and vales
And look for holes with holy grails.

They'll look into a looking glass
And curse the thieving lower class.
They'll see they've bought their own two eyes
From the eye thief in disguise.

Sometimes Derek plays the part
Of a gentleman who steals great art,
Seducing women with a wink,
Evading captors when they blink,

Surviving duels -- he has nine lives.
He'll take the art and give the wives
An enigmatic smile that stays
In place upon her face for days.

This is Derek's form of painting,
Portraits that are prone to fainting.
He becomes a wanted man.
The finest minds have formed a plan

To catch him and imprison him.
They've realised he isn't dim.
He once was captured by police.
He somehow filled his cell with geese.

He left them with an 'au revoir',
And slipped into a warm boudoir.
They fumed but when their tempers fell
They thought they sought the Pimpernel.

When poor street urchins call him Spock
He'll leave them in a state of shock.
He'll use his Vulcan death grip and
He'll kill a Klingon with his hand,

And whistle as he walks away.
The urchins won't know what to say.
When their eyes return to sockets
They'll empty out the Klingon's pockets.

He'll inspire respect and fear,
And he'll be played by Richard Gere
In a book about his life.
Meryl Streep will be his wife.