For years and years I practiced--
Tum-tum, tum-tum, tee-tum!
Pounding up and down the scale,
White keys, black keys--
They all fell beneath my faithful hammering;
And then--my pretty neighbor across the street
Put in a player-piano that could tear a hole
Through classics that I'd never learned even to dent!
I was mad--hopping mad--
But I got even with her.
(She was studying for the operatic stage.)
I bought a phonograph--cheap--
And some records--not cheap.
They made her gargling voice
Sound like an imitation with a small i.
Then we both laughed--and quit our exercises.
To-day she's a moving picture actress,
Using her big eyes in a financially-effective way,
While I write things in prose or jingle
Or verse that is free-on-bail.
Sometimes I get by with it; and
Sometimes she doesn't spoil a film--
Isn't the public lucky that we didn't
Stick to our callings?