Oh one had shoes of ox-blood dyeAnd shirt of denim blue-

And there he stood against the sky, With his young self showing through.

Their belts were buckled front to back, Their loafers holed with brass;

Their strides about the knees were slackAnd tight about the Ass.

I suppose they might have jumped me, And they might have come to roll, But I blessed the Fate that dumped me On that sandy island knoll.

For one was dark and one was fair, And both had gone astray;

One said that he preferred a pigThe other boy was gay.

My langorous demeanour Seemed to put them at their ease, So I offered each a wiener With a pint of beer, and cheese.

As I opened up my basket

They seemed both to catch the scentAnd I knew that should I ask it

They would willingly consent.

With a grace that was quite charming

They accepted my bequest;

Thus with nonchalance disarming

They sat down to take a rest.

We talked of things that Beaners do-

And things that Beaners mightAnd I thought, "Am I a Beaner too? Or is this second sight?"

It may have been the season, Or it may have been the sun; But whatever was the reasonI have never had such fun!

At last one sent his friend along, But said he'd love to stay-

I really could see nothing wrong In letting him delay.

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