This is a fun song! Thanks for bringing it to my attention.


THE MAN WHO PUFFS THE BIG CIGAR
As recorded by Leon Rosselson on "Love, Loneliness and Laundry" (1977)

The man who puffs the big cigar
Turns all he touches into stone.
The cash flows in from near and far
When he picks up the telephone.
The value of his property increases daily; no one knows
How much owns, and still he schemes.
The more he buys, the more it seems
There is no limit to his dreams,
And as the market booms, his empire grows.

Susie, a stripper in a Soho club,
She works long hours but not for love,
And when men see her body they go crazy,
But she just smiles in her heart,
And keeps herself a soul apart,
And in her room at night she dreams alone,
For Susie loves the man who flies the high trapeze.
He's flying now a thousand miles away,
But she knows one day she'll meet him as she always used to do,
By the statue of Eros, on a bright summer's day.

The man who puffs the big cigar
Turns all he touches into stone.
The cash flows in from near and far
When he picks up the telephone.
And Eros, too, belongs to him,
And all the land from miles around.
He buys the men who clear the way,
Who draw the plans to make it pay.
He has no time for yesterday.
His deals are shrewd and his investments sound.

Susie, the men who view her want her for themselves,
But Susie just ignores
Their looks; she knows they cannot buy this lady.
She walks the world in a see-through dress,
Self contained, self possessed,
And in her heart a secret that is hers:
A message from the man who flies the high trapeze,
A message from a thousand miles away,
Telling her to meet him as she always used to do,
By the statue of Eros, on midsummer's day.

The man who puffs the big cigar
Turns all he touches into stone.
The cash flows in from near and far
When he picks up the telephone.
Now all around Eros, towers rise,
And concrete slabs that black the sun,
And carefully he calculates
The profit he expects to make
From each square foot of his estate—
A bumper crop when all is said and done.

Susie, why are you looking so afraid?
You'll know he'll keep the vow he made.
The time has come and gone; it won't be easy
To find him in this concrete maze.
Walls and railings bar the way.
As if she's lost in space, she wanders on,
Looking for the man who flies the high trapeze,
But he could be a thousand miles away,
And cut off by the traffic in the distance, out of reach,
The statue of Eros, and it's midsummer's day.

The man who puffs the big cigar
Turns all he touches into stone.
The cash flows in from near and far
When he picks up the telephone.
His country mansion, Tudor style,
Has priceless pictures on the walls,
And he picks up the phone
And starts to turn the wheels,
A scheme to market instant cures for broken hearts
That could yield handsome dividends for all.