HER HAT
Oh, Kitty, she was sweet, the sweetest thing on feet,
If I could woo and win her my life would be complete:
I love her, oh, so dearly, but can never tell her that,
For I know I’d never suit a girl who’d wear such an awful hat.
When I look into her eyes I feel that she’s a prize,
But when she puts her hat on, and I gaze upon the size—
Although I love her dearly, it is forced upon me that
I’d never suit a girl who would wear such a hat.
To chat with her’s a treat; her figure’s trim and neat;