Roberta

Forget all the clowns, that come to woo you, half of them in chains, as loud as your woes, ships blow hooters, every song sings of home, not just in their dance, but down each avenue , who can fault your elan, a queen without a throne, bars are full of losers, you’d rather be alone, nothing comes by chance, your chimes maybe fewer, but forget about the past, barefoot walk on stones, you would never refuse, a game of Bingo in yellow stripey clothes, aboard a Yankee schooner, no need for ballroom gowns, to make them swoon.