We woke up in the morning
And used to see his shadow swoop past
He would sneak about when the rain was pouring
That Mr Brown, why was he so fast?
That was all we seemed to know
Mr Brown, only his name
But what is in a name? What does it show?
Mr Brown, what was his game?
I doubt I could point him out in a crowd
He would fit right in
He never seemed too proud
Mysterious is the only adjective for him
He could have been anyone
Or worked anywhere
In a flash he would be gone
To do what? He didn't share
A spy? An assassin or an undertaker?
Or perhaps something less sinister
A butcher, a baker, a candlestick maker?
Maybe even a minister?
The mystery that was Mr Brown will never be known
Even his death was a mystery
The doctor said his body was never shown
He said there was no file of his medical history
Who was Mr Brown? We'll never know
He was a stranger to us
Just a moving shadow
Maybe he just didn't want to cause a fuss
