this is a story about how i met my roommate, caretaker, nanny...not my guardian or conservator, i am not incompetent.
but i do pronounce 'duquesne' as 'doo-kwes-ney'.

he was working at a circuit shop on route 19
when his boyhood-disease gout had given those busted feet
what was he to do, where was he to go, he can't work without standing
so over the bridge doo-kwes-ney, the doo-kwes-ney fort,
he was there to ride greyhound to the donelson fort
he arrived, he was scared, no one's there - that's why he became the nanny

he could've guessed that the boy closed his eyes
and not remembered that the bus would arrive

as a father-figure he's minding the boy in need
a wrist to grasp, providing such joie de vivre
he is the greatest in friends when everybody else won't lend a hand
my nanny turns me happy, with larry i'm glad!

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