You Can Be A Republican, I'm A Genocrat
Oh, “rorty” was a mid-Victorian word Which meant “fine, splendid, jolly,” And often to me it has reoccurred In moments melancholy. For instance, children, I think it rorty To be with people over forty.
One From One Leaves Two
Higgledy piggledy, my black hen, She lays eggs for gentlemen. Gentlemen come every day To count what my black hen doth lay. If perchance she lays too many, They fine my hen a pretty
The Germ
A mighty creature is the germ, Though smaller than the pachyderm. His customary dwelling place Is deep within the human race. His childish pride he often pleases By giving people strange diseases. Do you,
The Bargain
As I was going to St. Ives I met a man with seven lives; Seven lives, In seven sacks, Like seven beeves On seven racks. These seven lives He offered to sell, But which
Good-By Now or Pardon My Gauntlet
Bring down the moon for genteel Janet; She’s too refined for this gross planet. She wears garments and you wear clothes, You buy stockings, she purchases hose. She say That is correct, and you
Old Men
People expect old men to die, They do not really mourn old men. Old men are different. People look At them with eyes that wonder when… People watch with unshocked eyes; But the old
Pretty Halcyon Days
How pleasant to sit on the beach, On the beach, on the sand, in the sun, With ocean galore within reach, And nothing at all to be done! No letters to answer, No bills
Common Cold
Go hang yourself, you old M. D.! You shall not sneer at me. Pick up your hat and stethoscope, Go wash your mouth with laundry soap; I contemplate a joy exquisite I’m not paying
Everybody Tells Me Everything
I find it very difficult to enthuse Over the current news. Just when you think that at least the outlook is so black that it can grow no blacker, it worsens, And that is
The Clean Plater
Some singers sing of ladies’ eyes, And some of ladies lips, Refined ones praise their ladylike ways, And course ones hymn their hips. The Oxford Book of English Verse Is lush with lyrics tender;
Peekabo, I Almost See You
Middle-aged life is merry, and I love to Lead it, But there comes a day when your eyes Are all right but your arm isn’t long Enough To hold the telephone book where you
Tin Wedding Whistle
Though you know it anyhow Listen to me, darling, now, Proving what I need not prove How I know I love you, love. Near and far, near and far, I am happy where you
So Does Everybody Else, Only Not So Much
O all ye exorcizers come and exorcize now, and ye clergymen draw nigh and clerge, For I wish to be purged of an urge. It is an irksome urge, compounded of nettles and glue,
Bankers Are Just Like Anybody Else, Except Richer
This is a song to celebrate banks, Because they are full of money and you go into them and all You hear is clinks and clanks, Or maybe a sound like the wind in
Requiem
There was a young belle of Natchez Whose garments were always in patchez. When comment arose On the state of her clothes, She drawled, When Ah itchez, Ah scratchez!