Across the street from midnight,
In an upper westside bar,
Was a picture of an a-h-o-l-e,
On a deck of playing cards...
I saw a Frenchman's sister,
She was kissing in the dark,
Playing slapjack,
Eating scampi,
On a bench in Central Park.
She was playing on an old guitar,
The strings of little sister's heart,
"Luv urself", the little one,
With every bite of appellez crumb.
And she said that she felt guilty but...
That's just the way the cookie crump-
" That's my name and that's my song"...
A candid little "...se jo con..."
Apparently, luv happens when we aren't looking for it...
The piglatin for the day!