There was this guy named Les, made some leather boots
He lived off of crickets, and lots a’ roasted roots
He lives for the fun of it, has no purpose at all
He has funny red hair, doesn’t ever comb at all
Wears a funny green jacket — never ever tries to shave
Everybody laughs at him, but they all think he’s brave

You see, Les is the Door — Need I tell you more?
He has to live for nothing but the Doorway
And the people that go thru every Day

If you go through the door, you may not come back
If you ever try, you’ll catch a lot o’ flak
Things have gone in — never have returned
If you ever try you’ll really get burned
Don’t you ever try — you’ll really get spurned
And you life may be rudely overturned

You see, Les is the Door — Need I say more?
He has nothing to live for but the Doorway
And room that is thru it, across the way

He never caught a cricket
But when he caught it, it died
He buried it in the ground, outside
It’s a sad ending, to a beastly song, and
now this song is getting much too long, (so, bye!)