Truths

With his little Digi camera
He wandered down the street
With it hidden in his pocket
It was so small and neat
He took candid photographs
Of every one that he saw
Caught Harry Peters slipping
Out of Mary Kelly's door
Snapped a quickie of some washing
He caught every little flicker
Of the windy entanglement of
Two shirts and a pair of knickers
He photographed his own left foot
And Sally Jones's nose
Four pound of mince in a butcher's shop
And a blooming climbing rose
Oh his little Digi camera
Opened up his eyes
For tout le monde knows
The camera never lies

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Truths

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