THE BAKER OF BAKER STREET

BY

TERRY IDLE

Hey Baker is the street named after you

Might be sir, we are but just a few

And so he began his little talk

As smooth as the board chalk

There was once a detective you know

Might be sir, there is not much I do know

But he was quite eccentric

Might be sire, my life has been quite bread-centric

Is there something else do you care about, Baker

Not much sir, I might have wanted to become a shoe maker

My friends said he occupied 221 B

Now where could that place be?

Down the lane sir, the one on the left

The house now that looks quite bereft

So he doesn’t live here anymore?

Might be sir, I think all this adds up to the lore

Aah! Rubbish baker, I am quite certain

Look, there’s a head behind the curtain

But sir, I am amazed at your imagination

There is nothing there, I bet on my occupation

Baker, you do not know detectives too well

They play with your mind, aye I can tell

And the house brings you here?

Yes my man, it’s as prolific as King Lear

Don’t you think he might want some peace?

Might be, said the man straightening his crease

O sir, what age might he be?

Only god can decree

Could be well into his autumn

You might say a centum

Then I believe sir, you must leave him to himself

He might be happy with ones own self

You might be right Baker, I think I should

Great thinking sir, I always thought you would

Now sir, I have breads to bake

Leave soon for my sake