He smiled and rubbed the stubble on his chin
  He sure shall find the weariness and dreariness of life that's growing thin
  Yet he didn't have so very far to go
  With a pencil in his hand he will travel on as planned
  With a mere step in the mountain to a light
    Craise Finton Kirk, see him go, on his way
  Oh they don't know where he is
  Very very nice, very very nice
    Even in the morning when he slept
  Something odd is missing
  There's nothing very much to talk about
  And nothing very much to see
    Craise Finton Kirk, see him go, on his way
  oh they don't know where he is
  Very very nice, very very nice
    Talks about the place he'd like to go
  And you never see the worrying and hurrying and that makes a person slow
  Yet you wouldn't think he'd be so hard to find
  Yet he looks so very busy but there's nothing on his mind
  And his wavy hair continues not to grow
    Craise Finton Kirk, see him go, on his way
  oh they don't know where he is
  Very very nice, very very nice
    Craise Finton Kirk, see him go, on his way
  Oh they don't know where he is
  Very very nice, very very nice