We are all in the dumps,
For diamonds are trumps,
The kittens are gone to St. Paul's,
The babies are bit,
The moon's in a fit,
And the houses are built without walls.
ANOTHER FALLING OUT
MY little old man and I fell out;
I'll tell you what 't was all about:
I had money and he had none,
And that's the way the noise begun.
LITTLE BOY BLUE
