The people upstairs all practise b
Their living room is a bowling all
Their bedroom is full of conducted
Their radio is louder than yours,
They celebrate week-ends all the w

The song of canaries
Never varies,
And when they’re moulting
They’re pretty revolting.

First a little
Then a lottle

My fellow man I do not care for.
I often ask me, What’s he there f
The only answer I can find
Is, Reproduction of his kind.
If I’m supposed to swallow that,

This is my dream,
It is my own dream,
I dreamt it.
I dreamt that my hair was kempt.
Then I dreamt that my true love u

The hands of the clock were reachi
In an old midtown hotel;
I name no name, but its sordid fam
Is table talk in hell.
I name no name, but hell’s own fla

Higgledy piggledy, my black hen,
She lays eggs for gentlemen.
Gentlemen come every day
To count what my black hen doth la
If perchance she lays too many,

Behold the duck.
It does not cluck.
A cluck it lacks.
It quacks.
It is specially fond

Master I may be,
But not of my fate.
Now come the kisses, too many too
Tell me, O Parcae,
For fain would I know,

The solitary huntsman
No coat of pink doth wear,
But midnight black from cap to spu
Upon his midnight mare.
He drones a tuneless jingle