THIS IS HOOEY
ALL THE FLOUR-LOVERS
ALL THE FLYBOYS
CAN CHASE YOURSELF!
NO ONE CARES
YOURS A HIGH-HAT
A GOLD DIGGER
AND A FOUR-FLUSHER
YOU GO AND GET FRIED
BUT ALL YOU DO IS LOOSE PRIDE
YOU WALK AROUND IN YOUR GLAD-RAGS
AND JACK IN YOUR POCKET
YOUR MANACLES IN YOUR PURSE
SO YOU WONT BE ICY-MITT
YOU THINK YOUR TIGHT
BUT I THINK YOUR A PIKER! ! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem