The Janitor's Boy
By Nathalia Crane
Oh I’m in love with the janitor’s boy,
And the janitor’s boy loves me,
He’s going to hunt for a desert isle
In our geography.
A desert isle with spicy trees
Somewhere near Sheepshead Bay,
A right nice place, just fit for two,
Where we can live alway.
Oh I’m in love with the janitor’s boy
He’s busy as he can be,
And down in the cellar he’s making a raft
Out of an old settee.
He’ll carry me off, I know that he will,
For his hair is exceedingly red;
And the only thing that occurs to me
Is to dutifully shiver in bed.
The day that we sail, i shall leave this brief note,
For my parents I hate to annoy;
“I have flown away to an isle in the bay
With the janitor’s red- haired boy.”
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