ANTHEM FOR A HAS-BEEN.
My Auto ’tis of Thee
Short cut to poverty
Of Thee I chant.
I blew a pile of dough
On you three years ago
Now you refuse to go
Or won’t or can’t.
Through town and country side
I drove thee full of pride
No charm you lacked.
I loved your gaudy hue
Your tires so round and new
Now I feel mighty blue
The way you act.
To thee old rattle box
Came many bumps and knocks
For thee I grieve.
Badly thy top is torn
Frayed are thy seats and worn
The croup affects thy horn
I do believe.
Thy perfume swells the breeze
While good folks choke and sneeze
As we pass by.
I paid for thee a price
Would buy a mansion twice
Now every one yells “Ice”
I wonder why.
Thy motor has the grip
Thy spark plug has the pip
And woe is thine.
I too have suffered chills
Fatigue and kindred ills
Trying to pay the bills
Since thou wert mine.
Gone is my bank roll now
No more ’twould choke a cow
As once before.
Yet if I had the yen
So help me John “Amen”
I’d buy a car again
And speed some more.
The lightning bug is brilliant,
But he hasn’t any mind;
It wanders through creation
With its headlight on behind.
Tobacco is a dirty weed—
I like it.
It satisfies no moral need—
I like it.
It makes you fat, it makes you lean,
It takes the hair right off your bean,
It’s the worst darn stuff I’ve ever seen—
I like it.
Little Willie in the best of pink sashes,
Fell in the fire and got burned to ashes.
Bye and bye the room grew chilly,
But nobody wanted to poke up Willie.
Here lies the body of Mary Ann Lowder.
She burst while drinking a seidlitz powder,
Called from this world, to her heavenly rest,
She should have waited till it effervesced.