Turn Down Your Collar
A.W. AUNER, SONG PUBLISHER & PRINTER, Tenth and Race Sts., Philadelphia,Pa.
Turn Down Your Collar.
I’ll sing of my son who is just twenty-three,
That stays up the whole night to dance the tra-la-lee.
He is one of the gang, can be seen every day,
With his skinny tight pants, walking down Chestnut way
He says he is working every day,
He is a stearer for a Bunco, and he on the lay;
When I ask him the meaning of this Bunco lay,
He’ll turn round and wink, and then he will say—
When I ask this lad to try and reform,
He says, go out West, you’re an old omathorn!
To shake the gang, he says he will try,
And join the preachers. Moody and Sankie;
There is no use of talking, he stays out all night,
And comes home in the morning with the gang boiling tight:
He calls his mother an old calabash.
And says, pull down the blinds, the old man’s got a mash.
A.W. AUNER’S PRINTING ROOMS, Tenth and Race Sts., Philadelphia,Pa.