To: F. Scott - Poem by Percy Flage
She ain't nothing but trouble.
A dame with looks and moxy to match.
She's got me hooked on 'I don't care'
A broad that may be a hell of a catch,
But ain't worth the double
Feature picture show, or the drive there.
I tell her, 'Calm down toots.'
But she never listens to a word I say.
Its like the stuff of bad books
Maybe there's just no jazz under her hair.
I'll set my admiration aside, and one day
I'll say, 'Lady, I'm done with you. I quit.
We had a chance and one of us blew it.'
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