When these are gone, there’ll be no more
Until the ending of the war.
They’ve found a clever substitute
For garden tool, tin can, or suit,
But THESE’LL try their plastics lore!
Strong men their salty tears will pour
Since they can’t get ’em at the store.
The agony, we can’t compute,
When these are gone.
The girdle’s going cost some gore;
Silk stockings took a frightful score–
But picture me,if you’re astute,
WITHOUT MY GARTERS–ain’t I cute?
Prepare, O Pride, to drag the floor,
Yea, with my sox, forevermore
When these are gone!
SUGGESTIONS :
Pin ’em to your longies? You can’t, becawers
Safety-pins ain’t available, ‘n’ so are the drawers!
With rubber bands and garters as scarce as our liquor,
I guess all we can do is to just let ’em fliquor!
by Ray Romine Tuesday, January 25, 1944
