Key chains,
Aren’t just those things that hold our keys...
They are a status symbol,
That everybody see’s...
Bottle openers and torches,
So we can find our way...
Footy clubs and car logos,
Are all here on display...
Some have a rabbit’s foot,
Or maybe a four leaf clover...
Others have Alco testers,
For those days that blow over...
They are all so different,
With a story to be told...
This bunch of unique keys,
On the key chain which its hold...
Some are for our houses,
Maybe our front door..
But there are other strange ones,
That you've never seen before...
Some adorn their bodies,
Keys hung along their side...
They start to jingle jangle,
When passing in their stride...
Others just like to hide them,
And they forget just where to look...
As they race around house...
Like a headless chook...
It always seems to happen,
When you’re running late...
Those keys will disappear,
It's the one thing that we hate...
But soon they will appear,
Hiding in the drawer...
I just don’t understand,
They were not there before...
They're much more than keys,
There are a necessity of life...
Without those old key chains,
We'd all be in some strife...
Len Newey 2013