I sell them to the scalpers, that’s the sort of man I am.
I put rocks upon the railroad tracks, and try to wreck the train,
Get a madman hired as engineer, and swear the man is sane.
I spread all sorts of rumors, and have all the fun I can,
Yet! Everybody says I’m such a disagreeable man,
And I can’t think why.
When I get into a sleeper I sit up half the night,
And try to make the ladies think that everything’s not right.
I cut in strips the cushions, the curtains always tear,
And pleasantly suggest aloud: “They are the worse for wear.”