Eleventh Avenue Racket

There is something terrible
about a hurdy-gurdy, 
a gipsy man and woman, 
and a monkey in red flannel 
all stopping in front of a big house
with a sign “For Rent” on the door 
and the blinds hanging loose 
and nobody home. 
I never saw this. 
I hope to God I never will.
  
  Whoop-de-doodle-de-doo. 
  Hoodle-de-harr-de-hum. 
Nobody home? Everybody home. 
  Whoop-de-doodle-de-doo. 
  
Mamie Riley married Jimmy Higgins last night: Eddie Jones died of whooping cough: George Hacks got a job on the police force: the Rosenheims bought a brass bed: Lena Hart giggled at a jackie: a pushcart man called tomaytoes, tomaytoes.
  Whoop-de-doodle-de-doo. 
  Hoodle-de-harr-de-hum. 
    Nobody home? Everybody home.