#AmericanWriters
Backward Bill, Backward Bill, He lives way up on Backward Hill, Which is really a hole in the sand… (But that’s a hill turned upside d… Backward Bill’s got a backward sh…
Hungry Mungry sat at supper, Took his knife and spoon and fork, Ate a bowl of mushroom soup, ate a… Ate a dozen stewed tomatoes, twent… Fifteen shrimps, nine bakes potato…
Ricky was 'L’ but he’s home with… Lizzie, our ‘O,’ had some homewor… Mitchell, 'E’ prob’ly got lost on… So I’m all of love that could mak…
As I walk down to Bishop Street… Now she was young and pretty too And on a string she walked with a… Oh the Floobie Doobie Doo now wh… It’s not the doll with eyes of blu…
Hey boys you know once I was took… And the first time that I wasn’t… But I’m an ingenious feller yeah… I tiptoed right down to my cellar… Oh her arms are iron her legs are…
Thanksgiving dinner’s sad and than… Christmas dinner’s dark and blue When you stop and try to see it From the turkey’s point of view. Sunday dinner isn’t sunny
There is a place where the sidewal… And before the street begins, And there the grass grows soft and… And there the sun burns crimson br… And there the moon-bird rests from…
Would you like to buy a dog with a… He is quite the strangest dog ther… Though he’s not too good at knowin… just exactly where he’s going, He is very very good at sitting do…
The morning sun touched lightly on The eyes of Lucy Jordan In her white suburban bedroom In a white suburban town, As she lay there ‘neath the covers…
This evening I unzipped my skin And carefully unscrewed my head, Exactly as I always do When I prepare myself for bed. And while I slept a coo-coo came
But please walk softly as you do. Frogs dwell here and crickets too. Ain’t no ceiling, only blue. Jays dwell here and sunbeams too. Floors are flowers - take a few
He’s the Twistable Turnable Sque… Stretchable Foldable Man. He can crawl in your pocket or fit… Or screw himself into a twenty-vol… Or stretch himself up to the steep…
I’ll tell you the story of Cloony… Who worked in a circus that came t… His shoes were too big and his hat… But he just wasn’t, just wasn’t fu… He had a trombone to play loud sil…
I tripped on my shoelace And I fell up— Up to the roof tops, Up over the town, Up past the tree tops,
I’ve sung my songs on dusty roads… To sweatin’ hard eyed brakemen, in… I’ve sung in blue wall papered roo… Now Mama…I’ll sing one song for y… Mama let me tell you that I’ve ne…