#AmericanWriters
Someone ate the baby it’s rather s… Someone ate the baby so she won’t… We’ll never hear her whiney cry or… We’ll never hear her asking why wh… Someone ate the baby it’s absolute…
I’ll sing you a poem of a silly yo… Who played with the world at the e… But he only loved one single thing… And that was just a peanut-butter… His scepter and his royal gowns,
I asked the Zebra: Are you black with white stripes? Or white with black stripes? And the zebra asked me: Are you good with bad habits?
Yeah hoodoo voodoo lady cast up yo… Let me know where did my baby go w… Hoodoo voodoo lady shake your blac… And bring my baby home bring my ba… I know she didn’t go up to New Yo…
Now, listen to me, folks... Hear what I say. You got to eat oysters everyday They’ll put your love life back on… They’re nature’s own aphrodisiac.
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
My skin is kind of sort of brownis… Pinkish yellowish white. My eyes are greyish blueish green, But I’m told they look orange in… My hair is reddish blondish brown,
There´s a shadow on the sun I se… Kiss it away, Kiss it away And there´s hurt down deep inside… Kiss it away, Kiss it away All the hard times we been through
Someone ate the baby. It’s rather sad to say. Someone ate the baby So she won’t be out to play. We’ll never hear her whiney cry
Well on a Monday I’ll be slingin’… And on a Wednesday I might be ten… Thursday I’ll be the guy who park… On a Friday I might be teachin’ s… I got a whole lotta talents in dem…
Ain’t the snow fallin’ just a bit… Aren’t they building the stairs a… And the town’s really changin’ in… The young folks they’re growin’ ex… And the newspaper print it’s becom…
You gotta wake up every mornin’, t… kitchen cook me great T-bone steak Serve it to me in bed go down the… bring me back all the money you ma… You gotta rub my body with sweet s…
Eight balloons no one was buyin’ All broke loose one afternoon. Eight balloons with strings a-flyi… Free to do what they wanted to. One flew up to touch the sun - P…
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…
In a pad with no heat, up on Sull… The last of the hipsters lay dyin’… Wearin’ his shades, so like no one… Like whether or not he was cryin’. All the junkies and loners