He's a miniature philosopher He stands five foot three So no one takes him seriously He's in love with Gertrude Lullaby But she doesn't care for him He's like a house boy to Miss Lullaby And their future looks very dim
He's a miniature philosopher He takes notes on all he reads But that doesn't satisfy his needs He's a desk clerk at the bank and trust There's so many contracts and paperwork to do He gets so busy at the bank and trust There is no time for Nietzsche or Camus
He's a miniature philosopher He writes essays on Voltaire But if he died no one would care
He doesn't know why his life turned out this way No one ever reads his dissertations or allegoric plays So he comforts himself while searching a rhyme That the public rarely recognize a genius in their time (poor little guy) He's a miniature philosopher Though he hasn't got a friend He's sure he'll be famous in the end