He has one that locks the office
And there's one that starts the big fine car
That finds its way home
He has two that fit the front-door locks
And one that fits the mailbox
But inside there's just a spider and
He scuttles to the corner with his mysteries
Cause he's frightened by the jangle of his pocketful of keys
He has one that fits the cashbox
And one unlocks the liquor bar
And it finds its way down
He has one that fits the study door
And one unlocks the desk drawer
And he touches all his letters and
He sorts them all according to his memories
To the icy clank and tinkle of his pocketful of keys
There's a padlock on the garden gate
There's a padlock on the hunting lodge
There's a padlock on the his-and-her garage
Amen
He was a somber man
Not inclined to telling her his mind
And there's one that locks the pain up
And one that keeps the hot tears in
But they find their way out
He has one that locks the best gin up
And one that keeps his chin up
And in shaky situations he
Has learned a way by which he even locks his knees
And he holds himself together with his pocketful of keys
Yes, he holds himself together with his keys