He walks with a gigantic spring to his step. Bobbing along: Up, down; up, down. His head rises so high he could easily peer into someone's windows. Is that what he is? A window peeper? He doesn't look the type; he looks so innocent.
But you never can tell, can you?
Suddenly he turns and bounces out of sight around the corner of a building. There is nothing there but a dismal, filthy alleyway. Where do you suppose he is going?
And who do you suppose he is?
And what do you suppose he is up to?
But you never can tell, can you?
Suddenly he turns and bounces out of sight around the corner of a building. There is nothing there but a dismal, filthy alleyway. Where do you suppose he is going?
And who do you suppose he is?
And what do you suppose he is up to?
