I guess she must of just got out of bed—
It seemed to me her nose looked kind of red;
They was a little wad of hair that hung
Down in a pigtail on her back; she brung
A telegram out to the door, and said:
“Well, get a move—good Heavens, are you dead?”
Somehow she didn’t seem to look so young.
I can’t help kind of wonderin’ to-day
What made her look so queer; it seems as though
There’s something that is gone. I’d like to know