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Hiram Perkins sittin' by the fire
Talking to his wife
Hollered out, "Now look-a here, Maria
A farmer's life was never meant for our son
The boy is almost twenty-one
I've been closely watching him of late
And something's gotta be done"
He's getting too darn big for a small town
He ought to be in New York
He has seen a champagne cork
He's even eating with his fork
He knows at least a dozen of "troopers"
He's got a tie from Siegel and Cooper's
And his name stamped on the inside of his hat
Think-a that, think-a that!
Down there on Broadway is the place where he belongs
He knows "Bedelia" and the other latest songs
He's got a watch with an open crystal
And a walking cane with a pistol
He's getting too darn big for a one-horse town
Hiram Perkins bought a railroad ticket
On the B. and O.
When they warned him New York town was wicked
He said, "I know, but then my boy can hold his own
Of late he's actin' too high-tone'
Why, he combs his hair three times a day
He even uses cologne"