The
fly is coming round again,
Swat the fly;
Distributing
disease and pain –
Swat the fly.
He’s
crawling from the cellars deep,
He’s
coming from the rubbish heap
He’s
working while his victims sleep –
Swat the fly.
He’s
“foreign matter” through and through,
Swat the fly;
It
is the only thing to do,
Swat the fly.
The
bald man cannot wear a dip
All
day in summer’s awful grip,
So
let us help him with a clip,
Swat the fly.
Think
of our butter minus wings,
Swat the fly;
Think
of your cream and all those things,
Swat the fly.
Just
think of sticky paper brown,
Of
pantaloons and summer gown,
Your
daily dread of sitting down,
Swat
the fly.
Just
swat him with a deadly swat,
Swat the fly;
Or
he’ll recover, like as not,
Swat the fly.
And
when you’ve swatted all the lot,
And
killed ‘em all upon the spot
There’ll
always be some more to swat, There’s
Swat the fly.
April
16, 1913
"dip" hat - fedora
A Dictionary of Costume and Fashion: Historic and Modern
By Mary Brooks Picken
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