Yesterday I stood behind your chair
When you was kind of bendin’ down to write,
And I could see your neck, so soft and white,
And notice where the poker singed your hair,
And then you looked around and seen me there,
And kind of smiled, and I could seem to feel
A sudden empty, sinkish feelin’ where
I'm all filled up when I've just e't a meal.
Dear Frankie, where your soft, sweet finger tips
Hit on the keys I often touch my lips,
And wunst I kissed your little overshoe,
And I have got a hairpin that you wore —
One day I found it on the office floor —
I'd throw my job up if they fired you.