Style by Karl G. Bradshaw

There’s nifty styles and shifty styles,
And styles ‘that make us smile;
There’s rummy styles mid bummy styles,
And styles that’s out of style;
There’s’ styles’ so bad they make us mad,
And styles that’s fairly good’;
There’s heads of stone and heads of bone,
And heads composed of wood.

There’s Mrs. Brown, who has a gown
That came from Paris, France; ·
To Mrs. Teak she will not speak
Or give a pleasant glance;
Apd Miss Durat, she wears a hat
That cost her dad a pile;
She will not go with Miss Devoe,
Whose hat is out·of style,

Old Daddy Lentz is seven cents,
Ahead of Daddy Gray;
His daughter, Dot, will not be caught
With Gray’s young daughter, May;
And Billy Hawk refused to talk
To neighbor Willie Spoons;
A badly matched big checkered patch
Adorned Spoons’ trouserloons.

There’s ideas dumb and ideas bum,
And ideas strangely queer;
There’s human minds of wondrous kinds
Upon this earthly sphere;
And when away from earth we stray,
We’d better take a file,
For fear the pearly gates are locked
And keys are out of style.

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