CONFESSIONS OF A STREET GAMIN
Well governor you do look slick,
But yer can't give me guff;
I guess you think I be a fool,
Or not quite up to snuff?
But yer can't give me guff;
I guess you think I be a fool,
Or not quite up to snuff?
Yer really want ter know, yer say,
What we street duffers do?
Gosh! if yer ain't the queerest cud
I ever had to chew.
What we street duffers do?
Gosh! if yer ain't the queerest cud
I ever had to chew.
Yer want ter put it in a book
That yer a-goin' to sell?
Well governor, yer welcome to't,
But there ain't much ter tell.
That yer a-goin' to sell?
Well governor, yer welcome to't,
But there ain't much ter tell.
Me dad he was a gintleman,
A-keepin' of a bar,
Before he got ter swillin' so,—
I never hed no ma.
A-keepin' of a bar,
Before he got ter swillin' so,—
I never hed no ma.
But one dark night he got so bad
I had to take a sneak,
An' while he was a chasin' me
He fell inter the creek.
I had to take a sneak,
An' while he was a chasin' me
He fell inter the creek.
I s'pose you'll think 'twas mighty queer
I blubbered an' felt bad,
Yer see I had ter love him some—
Yer know he was me dad.
I blubbered an' felt bad,
Yer see I had ter love him some—
Yer know he was me dad.
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