Sangtekst: Bee Gees. Craise Finton Kirk Royal Academy Of Arts.

:
He smiled and rubbed the stubble on his chin.
He sure shall find the weariness and dreariness of life that's growing thin.
Yet he didn't have so very far to go.
With a pencil in his hand he will travel on as planned.
With a mere step in the mountain to a light.

Craise Finton Kirk, see him go, on his way.
Oh, they don't know where he is.
Very very nice, very very nice.

Even in the morning when he slept
something odd is missing.
There's nothing very much to talk about
and nothing very much to see.

Craise Finton Kirk, see him go, on his way.
Oh, they don't know where he is.
Very very nice, very very nice.

Talks about the place he'd like to go.
And you never see the worrying and hurrying
and that makes a person slow.
Yet you wouldn't think he'd be so hard to find.
Yet he looks so very busy but there's nothing on his mind.
And his wavy hair continues not to grow.

Craise Finton Kirk, see him go, on his way.
Oh, they don't know where he is.
Very very nice, very very nice.

Craise Finton Kirk, see him go, on his way.
Oh, they don't know where he is.
Very very nice, very very nice.