THE NEIGHBORS
For years and years I practiced—
Tum-tum, tum-tum, tee-tum!
Pounding up and down the scale,
White keys, black keys—
They all fell beneath my faithful hammering;
And then—my pretty neighbor across the street
Put in a player-piano that could tear a hole
Through classics that I'd never learned even to dent!
I was mad—hopping mad—
But I got even with her.
(She was studying for the operatic stage.)
I bought a phonograph—cheap—
And some records—not cheap.
They made her gargling voice
Sound like an imitation with a small i.
Then we both laughed—and quit our exercises.
To-day she's a moving picture actress,
Using her big eyes in a financially-effective way,
While I write things in prose or jingle
Or verse that is free-on-bail.
Sometimes I get by with it; and
Sometimes she doesn't spoil a film—
Isn't the public lucky that we didn't
Stick to our callings?