Billy Bird was know'd as a bar-room bum; Be'n a trader out on th’ plains; Be'n a timber rafter, a fourth-ward grafter, Had n't no conshunce, had n't no brains;
But was well perserv'd in Rum. He hailed frum Mi-sou-ri‘ r Michi-gan; Was cook in a lumber camp; Run a Wild West show, then turn'd hobo,
Was an all-roun’ fu'st class tramp;— ‘ N y’ could n't call him a “man.” He'd b'en kicked an’ cussed like a mongrel pup, An’ a cock-fight was his creed;
An’ eye out o’ joint was another bad point, But with th’ one left he see'd Far enough t’ hit th’ cup! He'd th’ wanderin’ itch in his lazy heels
( With th’ luck that comes t’ sich ); F'r one day, dead drunk, that mis'ble skunk Struck a vein that made him rich. Y’ sh'd hear Billy Bird's squeals:—
“I'm richer'n Creesus!” ( this he howled ); “I've th’ biggest strike aroun’; I'm a reg'lar gent!” ( Here his bre'th was spent An’ he tumbles upon th’ groun’ );
B’ his luck Billy Bird got fouled. Clumb up on a kag t’ make a speech. Says he: “I'm th’ Turrible Turk! I'm a millionaire, an’ I'll curl th’ hair
Of th’ man says I need work! Me? I'm a rainbow out of reach! “I'm off t’ Noo York t’ get int’ th’ swirl; Tip them waiters ten-dollar bills;
I'm a millionaire! Do n't I wear th’ air That goes with th’ pace that kills? An’ I'm goin’ t’ pick my Girl! “I'll buy her di'mon' s t’ blaze her front,
An’ th’ best champagne we'll spill; An’ I'll murder th’ man as says what he can See I ai n't no gent! Me, Bill! An’ I tell y’ that's MY stunt!
“I'll buy a floor in th’ big ho-tel; I'll dazzle th’ chamber-maids; Fifth Avenoo style in my auto-mo-bile I'll speed her up with my jades;
I'll show‘ em a Yukon swell! “I'll dine on snakes fried in burnin’ oil, An’ dance till th’ cows come home; As an aftermath take a champagne bath
An’ shampoo with a curry-comb; All done up accordin’ t’ Hoyle. “Then I'll hike t’ bed with a great, big, head,— Yellin':‘ CALL WHEN THE CLOCK HITS FOUR!’
An’ I'll wait with a grin till th’‘ call’ comes in, An’ Brass Buttons knocks at th’ door, An’ he thinks I'm sleepin’ dead! “Brass buttons‘ tap, tap, tap’ on th’ door:—
‘ Millionaire, it is four A. M.!’ An’ I'll bust that door with a Yukon roar: Howlin:‘ Say! d'ye know WHO I AM?’ An’ I'll rouse‘ em on every floor!
“W'en th’ house comes runnin’ up I'll yell:— ‘ WOW! I'm a millionaire! I DON'T HEV’ T’ GET UP, y’ blankety Pup!’ An’ the'r eyes stickin’ out‘ ll stare,
While I send‘ em plumb t’ h —— ll!”
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