palming doorknobs

A
particularly-rough order
of house dick, you might
guess. You'd be right. I
travel from floor to floor and
hotel to hotel eventually,

palming knobs. Naturally,
any
trouble
arises? I take it
in hand, and sure enough,
work it over. I give
trouble the business,
vigorously and thoroughly. It's
my business, and I'm the best

as long as I get paid. Otherwise
unfortunately, I do it for free.

Which some people just can't
seem to understand, but I
can. That's why I do. I make free

with my hands

on those knobs. Racking up
a hell of a reputation in
the underworld, if you know

that sort of thing. What
it's like. You wouldn't criticize
intelligently if you did. It takes
it out of you. Look,

When wrongdoing
and shady deals go down,
I don't authorize
that.

But they damn shan't be
found
out
as
crimes.
Sorry, coppers
and silver-tongued devils'
advocates, plus all the iron
judges of Law, but

The house doesn't want trouble.

That's why I'm here.

Whether they hired me or not, who
knows, cares, dares? I do!
It's pure technicality, and
I'm the official loophole.
Who cares if I'm hired?

No house wants trouble.

In every house I work, though
there sure seems to be no
lack. I see to that.

That's what I'm there
to solve this for.

Not a job, it's
a calling,

and once they've had some

nobody wants more.