They're just bananas I know, but buy one and I'll tell you a story.

Rory, roary, tell us a story, a life,

       a time, a nursery rhyme. Kind of like the Brothers Grimm. That's a description not a name. I'm one of them. The Brothers. Grim outlook, can't see the smiles

- YOU!

I can see you smiling outside, but pass me by  and go on looking. I'm just the banana seller. Thousands pass by each day and all remember my face.

Ha,

        think I don't know yours?

And they're good bananas, cheaper than in the shops

- Yes love 25p each

Thanks a lot and enjoy your life, just don't think about it. It's a mistake. I knew a man who looked inside his box  and the trapped beast in there bit his nose off. Doesn't make sense eh? To him it did. I sell bananas, he smells through his mouth. He knows the pattern inside his box.

        Crate.

        Banana crate.

        Shoe box, hat box.

        Locked or unlocked.

       Cocked or half-cocked.

It takes a sad man to.

Look, lovely bananas. Fresh from the Windward Isles,

hand-picked by trained to perfection monkeys. Cheaper than the locals.

What was in my box? That would be telling.

I'm just a banana seller,

       story teller.

I don't know your answer. See, him over there next to that bin, bag, bar-room brawl, he's not the banana seller, the Banana King at all. But don't I just know him,

        his eyes have it.

The answer,

        dancer spinning round in his own revolution. Got his own sun round which he orbits. His eyes hold the secret, it's there for all to see. See what I'm talking about? Following the pattern of the game or not? No.

        Nay. Nonny no.

OK. Half-time in nursery rhyme. 

            Take a break.

Hissing snake.

            Piece of Cake.

Expert panel can pass judgement. Yes, well, oh well, oh hell. What's the score? Nil nil to the home team. That's all of you, no? Score, gotta score. I'm on the away team, asked for a transfer, but I was sadly disappointed.

"There is a green hill far away

        That has a city wall

        Where Mr Dumpty broke his shell

        In a suicidal fall"

He tried to pick up the pieces but the pattern was lost. Hump was all broken up by the episode. The King's horses tried to help. But they were just horses.

That's the  meaning.

I think. Bananas.

I sell bananas. Ripe, yellow fellow am I. Cowardy, cowardy custard, couldn't cut the mustard. Well you wouldn't if you found what you were looking for. None can. It's there in our eyes. Twice I was close, reached out but they changed the rules. Then the third time, in my third or fourth world, I touched the sky.

Light, and all the worlds poured in through the pane, with the sun. And I sell bananas. The Banana King. To you missus or you mister.

        Not proud,

        but I'll shout it loud,

        to the crowd (Lest I forget).

I know the truth, sweet bird of youth, and here. The proof. If a man sits on a hill and stares over a town he is higher than I. But if he closes his eyes I can see more. It's in the eyes. The eyes of my brothers are closed to the view from the hill.

I sell bananas. He dances.

And I know a dog who has no nose. We can't see the town, the higher we climb, the further it goes away.

A man can pass me by, he has that right, but I can say my piece, make my peace with my world.

Close my eyes and think of England. Is it still here? I haven't been for so long. I've been selling bananas for so long.

So long, see you later.

- Hey! These bananas are my life. I see the world pass by with my golden eye and the yellow turns greens up on my plate.  It's like that really. Really it is, would I lie to you? My oldest, coldest friends passing by on your own tracks.

Parallel lines, parallel lives. Taking bends, faking friends. And where's the ticket to? Return? Hope not.

        I got one, off-peak. Single. Cheaper. No point wasting. Destination one,

        disembarkation, and the tannoy God gave me the answer.

The dancer, a trancer.

So I sat down righ there, and got my bananas out.

- Won't you buy my lovely bananas, best quality you can buy. Buy them for your kids.

Wife. Mundane life.

Look for the stars in the middle. They are there, but don't say I told you. Slice the banana crossways, and it's always there. May be yours has seven, nine, seventy nine. Mine has five points. May be yours does too. Just buy one and see.

      See? Saw?

        Can? Could?

            Should? Did.

If a parakeet flies through the jungle, colours flashing, clashing in the wet sunlight, how many men would live in a cage? That bird doesn't know until it's not free. 

Florence Nightingale sang in a Belgian field.

        And look where she ended up.

No longer legal, but still tender. Like all those damned nurses. Starched neat and proper with blood on their hands. World leaders and butchers look on in envy.

       
Look at me with envious faces. You buy my goods, my saving graces.

A security blanket from the cold of my mind,

        just a bunch of bananas, the best you will find.

But don't go looking on supermarket shelves, just in yourselves, and may be you'll know, the rules of the game, the tracks of the train,  golden bird in the rain.

I can't tell you to stay at home, only parents and doctors can, but stray outside your door to the rest of the world and look around. And find it. The answer is there.

        In timetables.

        On bank notes.

        Menageries.

        Ice cream floats.

Wherever you look it will be there. God knows. I see it everywhere. It's there for those who don't seek it.

        If you know the secret, just leak it.

Let it out like your pants. Let the rest of them know, at the end of the line there's nowhere else to go.

My words are simple, but they hold a key - B  Minor. Stay small, walk tall, but don't search for it all.

Everyone has an answer. There's billions all over the world, dotted like crumbs in a carpet. One for every banana boy and girl. 

When you find it

TAKE A PRIZE.

Sit on your hill. Close your eyes, and wonder why you can't see the town, down all around, but always just beyond your reach.

You'll be left to dance. All alone. Or perhaps you can join me and sell fruit.       Oranges.

Or apples, or pears.    

Not bananas. I sell bananas. I'm the Banana King.