| Back the bus he cussed «Space suits! |
| Blackened boots!
|
| Lad, little Lad,» he sad, «I've a tip for you:
|
| See, what about me: what about her? |
| What about me?»
|
| For five dollars I walked him to his Mom’s
|
| And on the threshold he said straight and calm
|
| «See what about me: what about her? |
| What about me?»
|
| Can’t kiss cousin Chris could knight, turn off the light
|
| With what why’s we wave. |
| What wish? |
| It came true
|
| See, what about me. |
| What about her? |
| What about me
|
| T’ord ta tippy top Tommy tongue-tied talked
|
| Tricked Trish tra trance which church chit-chat
|
| Nana nots no know, so down the firehouse we go
|
| Fireman Frank friendly fed fee-free
|
| Dank dusty doughnuts den da dribble drank
|
| Driven droopy drunken; |
| in Clinton lake we’ve sunk in
|
| So Tomy, look here what you did:
|
| Barnacle Bill’s bound bonus bid
|
| My mommy must a made up my mind
|
| Many months me for Mandy Miller resigned
|
| Right raise rank rise rust; |
| and how she ever fussed!
|
| About that out-lout doubt-route scout;
|
| Seems he liked someone better than her
|
| Oh! |
| Tommy Trish and Frank
|
| You can talk me to the bank
|
| So I can bring a little extra today
|
| Prop prince prize proof prize-proof, pry pray
|
| When the word of your ward was the sword by your side
|
| And you dug up the deed in the dump where he died
|
| You seemed beside yourself; |
| you’re wandering all your wealth
|
| ‘While the warp and the woof of your words were worked
|
| By perpetually pushing spirits and beers
|
| Cause the coffin the cradle the curse
|
| Were woven even worse
|
| Since the ‘sary sends signs out the fire to whom it may concern:
|
| Cause the coffin is for me cause I have nothing to do with it;
|
| And the cradle is for me cause the old dragon attacked me in it;
|
| And the purse is for me because I don’t have money nor friends |