Onion Soup

Thin and unshaved

Drunk and mysterious

Oh, I must say

Lifestyle is curious

With a little touch of the sniffles

And filthy socks

Gnawed, crumbled fingernails

Never doing tomahawk chops

Flaky head

Dandruff is distinguished

Laquer is red

Vain is the varnish

"What is at the root of this?"

She'll say "whatcha got?"

"What participle do you possess?

She'll say "which I have not!"

One blustery day

We rode out to the meadowlands

We saw and were amazed

Then hauled it back into town again

Mississippi is a mess sometimes

And not only when it rains

How come you went back to that malaria island

'Cause our friendship is strained

Those were the days

When you were so cosmopolitan

These are the days

My letters they're so increasingly maudlin

I wrote you an eloquent postcard once

About this most exquisite onion soup

But, of course I never mailed it though

Cause it was your turn in the loop