Classic Poem

VERSE 1

There are lots of fellows think that they're in love,
There are lots of girls who think the very same.
When a gal likes a fellow just because he's got a bankroll
And he likes her because she is a pretty dame,
That ain't the proper kind of love,
That's a bunco game for fair.
It's ten to one that she ain't on the level,
And it's still a better price than that
That he ain't on the square.
There ain't no love-bee making any honey,
With him it's the looks and with her it's the money.

REFRAIN

When a fellow's on the level with a girl that's on the square,
There is no other kind of happiness that can compare,
But dodge the merry wedding bells if there's a single doubt,
It's the worry of the thing that makes it hard to string it out.
You can tell the way she chatters if it's coin she's thinking of;
With thirty cents you're rich enough if it's a case of love.
She needn't be a queen, he needn't be a millionaire,
When a fellow's on the level with a girl that's on the square.

VERSE 2

Ev'ry fellow ought to figure ev'rything
Long before he ever buys a wedding ring,
And a girl ought to size a fellow up and get his number
And make pretty sure he hasn't got her on a string.
Take lots of time before you fall, and be careful what you do;
It's ten to one that he is only kidding,
And I'll lay you still a better price
That she is skidding too.
We all have dreams, it seems, of matrimony,
We wake from the dream when we pay alimony.

REPEAT REFRAIN