A painter chuck without a handle
A torn and shabby faded row
He's a second-hand dealer
Getting deeper into debt
He's a second-hand 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 second-hand dealer Dragging rubbish up a stair
He's a second-hand dealer
Breathing heavy cos the air
costs nothing
Drips out a bucket,
thots a cuckoo clock onto the floor
Leans over the table,
which collapses and falls right into the door of a cupboard
Second-hand dealer With his eyes so dim,
dead could be night
Second-hand dealer
It's a pity for his not a pretty sight
A man in such a poor condition
Had half so very long ago
Oh,
the second-hand dealer Life is quickly rushing by
And the second-hand dealer Will be glad cos he can die for nothing
Gets out a bottle,
he's a heavy whiskey drinking rat
Walking in circles,
doesn't see the stairs He falls and breaks his neck
He's a gunner
Second-hand dealer
With his eyes so dim, dead could be night
Second-hand dealer
It's a pity for his not a pretty sight
Will anybody mourn his passing?
Will they pull down the dirty shot
Of the second-hand dealer?
He was born and he doesn't die For nothing,
for nothing
Second-hand dealer