Bunker Hill Poem by Annie Cordelia Adams

i've been a fool for way too long and i've been in hiding for a silent song
in the safe of bunker hill the jews are trying to kill me
it's the cost of the safety fines that's bringing me out tonight

could we sit, sit, on a bench, or walk,
for some time we could talk but we'll probably be pretty far apart

he, he makes her happy
he makes her cry
i can see he needs her every night
he, he makes her happy
september wasn't happy
and neither were you

he, he makes her happy
he makes her cry
i can see he needs her every night
he, could have made me happy
september wasn't happy
and neither were you
and neither was i
i'll be glad if we make it through