People expect old men to die,
They do not really mourn old men.
Old men are different. People loo
At them with eyes that wonder when
People watch with unshocked eyes;

This is a song to celebrate banks,
Because they are full of money and
you hear is clinks and clanks,
Or maybe a sound like the wind in
Which is the rustling of the thous

There was a young belle of Natche
Whose garments were always in patc
When comment arose
On the state of her clothes,
She drawled, When Ah itchez, Ah

How pleasant to sit on the beach,
On the beach, on the sand, in the
With ocean galore within reach,
And nothing at all to be done!
No letters to answer,

Isabel met an enormous bear,
Isabel, Isabel, didn’t care;
The bear was hungry, the bear was
The bear’s big mouth was cruel and
The bear said, Isabel, glad to me

Being a father
Is quite a bother.
You are as free as air
With time to spare,
You’re a fiscal rocket

Be it a girl, or one of the boys,
It is scarlet all over its avoirdu
It is red, it is boiled; could the
Have possibly been a lobstertricia
His degrees and credentials were h

The hunter crouches in his blind
‘Neath camouflage of every kind
And conjures up a quacking noise
To lend allure to his decoys
This grown-up man, with pluck and

Let’s straighten this out, my litt
And reach an agreement if we can.
I entered your door as an honored
My shoes are shined and my trouser
And I won’t stretch out and read

I test my bath before I sit,
And I’m always moved to wondermen
That what chills the finger not a
Is so frigid upon the fundament.