Four to the thirty Gerty
A to the k to the Z if ye
Pretty-eye-y? Me? You seen?
Let me just axe you a question Mr.
Got some change? Got a quarter? Spare a dollar?
Alma martyr.
Left the train alone again, yeah I know that sound.
It's like the train tracks down
off Barber led to the meat plant
Me and ole' bug-eye went down there once on a lark
ended up leaving me in the lurch
hidin' in the closet till my roommate came home and acted like she didn't know you was in there hidin' real silent like
till you snuck out the front door.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem