Lyrics Collection, The Searchers

The Searchers


SECONDHAND DEALER

(Frank Allen / Mike Pender) A painted jug without a handle A torn and shabby faded rug He's a secondhand dealer Getting deeper into debt He's a secondhand dealer And he wants what he can get for nothing His body's broken like that handle His clothes are shabby like that rug He's a secondhand dealer Dragging rubbish up a stair He's a secondhand dealer Breathing heavy 'cause the air costs nothing Trips on a ????? Knocks a cuckoo clock onto the floor Leans on a table Which collapses and falls right into the door of a cupboard Secondhand dealer with his eyes so dim that it could be night Secondhand dealer, it's a pity for he's not a pretty sight A man in such a poor condition Can't have so very long to go For the secondhand dealer life is quickly rushing by And the secondhand dealer will be glad 'cause he can die for nothing Gets out a bottle He's a heavy whiskey-drinkin' man Walkin' in circles, doesn't see the stairs He falls and breaks his neck, he's a goner Secondhand dealer with his eyes so dim that it could be night Secondhand dealer, it's a pity for he's not a pretty sight Will anybody mourn his passing Will they pull down the dirty shop Of the secondhand dealer, can we say that someone cried? For the secondhand dealer, he was born and then died for nothing For nothing, secondhand dealer