I will someday go, said the Locksmith
To that shop up in the sky,
Where my selling price is highest,
But the lowest when I buy.
Where my keys are always pre-cuts,
And my pins the perfect height,
And the workday starts at four p.m.
And we take no calls at night.
Where locked-out safes jump open
The moment that I smile,
And my peers all call me ‘Mister’
And sooo admire my style.
Where the jobbers call me “Sir”
And fill my orders in a flash,
And customers gladly pay C.O.D.
And usually in cash.
Where the hired help thinks they’re overpaid
And never come in late.
And the special parts you need so bad
Are there by the promised date.
Yes, this would be the finest shop
Wherever a locksmith could be.
I don’t know what you’d call it,
But it sounds like HEAVEN to me.
by Gerald J. Connelly, Jr., C.P.P.