In fourteen hundred and ninety-two
Someone sailed the ocean blue.
Somebody borrowed the fare in Spa
For a business trip on the boundin
And to prove to the people, by act

There is a knocking in the skull,
An endless silent shout
Of something beating on a wall,
And crying, “Let me out!”
That solitary prisoner

I objurgate the centipede,
A bug we do not really need.
At sleepy-time he beats a path
Straight to the bedroom or the bat
You always wallop where he’s not,

The wasp and all his numerous fami
I look upon as a major calamity.
He throws open his nest with prodi
But I distrust his waspitality.

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,

Now when I have a cold
I am careful with my cold,
I consult a physician
And I do as I am told.
I muffle up my torso

He tells you when you’ve got on t
And helps you with your girdle wh

I didn’t go to church today,
I trust the Lord to understand.
The surf was swirling blue and whi
The children swirling on the sand.
He knows, He knows how brief my s

O Duty,
Why hast thou not the visage of a
Why displayest thou the countenanc
conscientious organizing spinster
That the minute you see her you ar

Cuckoos lead Bohemian lives,
They fail as husbands and as wives
Therefore they cynically disparage
Everybody else’s marriage.