Soapy Dick

There he goes down the street, good ole' Soapy Dick.
His hat is made of wool and his trenchcoat of velour, he struts away so cool, towards his goal shaped like a hole.
But some day his day will come, as will yours and mine too.
He will face the wall of light as he turns himself to suds, looking back towards his soapy life, just for a moment and then never again for the rest of eternity.
Such is the fate of the Soapy Dick
No more tangy taste
No more cummy lips