Saint Jim, The Fixer.

Now then, now then, 

He would say

With that famous anthracite grin

Which he used to worm his way in,

Hows about, 

He would say

You let me fix it  

For people to play:

Let me make some dreams come true

Week after month after year In TV’s full view.

A rough hewn gem, a national treasure,

Using his fame to achieve his pleasure.

How many knew and helped him hide

The predatory beast that rode inside.

Hindsight they say is a wonderful thing

But in all honesty he made me cringe

As he wandered on in his merciless way.

Now then, now then I can hear his voice

A plaster saint by popular choice

Until death removed from us that face,

Only then began his fall from grace

As his damaged victims came

To reveal the evil behind his name

At first facing public censure, public shame

At times even feeling themselves to blame,

Until Saint Jim, fhat benevolent fixer,

Stood revealed as that evil creature.

Now they all swear, 

Insist its true

They may have suspected 

But nobody knew.

I don't suppose we'll ever  know

The damage he caused

As we saw his fame grow.

Now then, now then, 

He would say

With that famous anthracite grin

Which he used to worm his way in.

Hows about, 

He would  say, 

You let me fix it 

For people to play.