Breathe o’er here, oh, Constant Blue. And let those lips be fair!
Blow yer fife fine, tickle this ear, and let yer nothing be new!
Ida, find that blowing sucker and give ‘em less than full
Whilst I dance me merry twiddle feet round and round ‘da stool.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem