Molten Vole

Say hello to the tinpot man
He has a tin pot in each hand
And when he clangs them together
He's a one-man tin pot band

There goes the tinpot chap
With tinventions made from scrap
Have you ever seen a tin machine
That slaps your kneecaps?

He never feels famished
Pots of stew carried on his back
Breakfast, lunch, or a snack
He wears tin pots
They rattle on his cranium
When he wears them on his head
Yeah, and he wears them all to bed

Wave to the tinpot guy
He tosses pots to the sky
A mighty throw, look out below
Or you'll lose an eye

Don't miss the tinpot lad
And all the tin pot times he's had
When you look back in twenty years
The tin will make you glad