In Other Words/On a Certain Propensity of Bootblacks
On a Certain Propensity of Bootblacks to
Toy with the Shoelaces of the Shinee
Polishing little rapscallion,
Shining away at my shoes,
Be thou or Greek or Italian,
Thou art the one I accuse;
Ruin my tans with thy tarnish,
That were a crime to condone,
But, when thou smearest the varnish,
Leave thou my laces alone!
Shining away at my shoes,
Be thou or Greek or Italian,
Thou art the one I accuse;
Ruin my tans with thy tarnish,
That were a crime to condone,
But, when thou smearest the varnish,
Leave thou my laces alone!
Utterly spoil and demolish
All of the calfskin I wear,
Wreak, with thy poisonous polish,
Ruin—’tis little I care.
But, as thou needest thy nickel,
Listen to me as I moan:
“Cease thou mine ankles to tickle!
Leave thou my laces alone!”
All of the calfskin I wear,
Wreak, with thy poisonous polish,
Ruin—’tis little I care.
But, as thou needest thy nickel,
Listen to me as I moan:
“Cease thou mine ankles to tickle!
Leave thou my laces alone!”
Fiend, how thou watchest me wriggle!
Ghoul, how thou watchest me wince!
Whiles that thou hidest a giggle
Under thy Genoan squints.
Hark! I shall—be this a warning
Final and straight from my throne!
Kick in thy features some morning,
An thou leav’st not my laces alone!
Ghoul, how thou watchest me wince!
Whiles that thou hidest a giggle
Under thy Genoan squints.
Hark! I shall—be this a warning
Final and straight from my throne!
Kick in thy features some morning,
An thou leav’st not my laces alone!