The Tragedy of Pete

There was a man Whose name was Pete, And he was a buck From his head to his feet. He loved a dollar, But hated a dime; And so was poor Nine-tenths of the time. The Judge said “Pete, What of your wife?” And Pete replied “She lost her life.” “Pete,” said the Judge, “Was it lost in a row? Tell me quick, And tell me how.” Pete straightened up With a hic and a sigh, Then looked the Judge Full in the eye. “O, Judge, my wife Would never go To a Sunday dance Or a movie show. “But I went, Judge, Both day and night, And came home broke And also tight. “The moon was up, My purse was down, And I was the bully Of the bootleg town. “I was crooning a lilt To corn and rye For the loop in my legs And the fight in my eye. “I met my wife; She was wearing a frown, And catechising Her Sunday gown. ‘O Pete, O Pete’ She cried aloud, ‘The Devil is falling Right out of a cloud.’ “I looked straight up And fell flat down And a Ford machine Pinned my head to the ground. “The Ford moved on, And my wife was in it; And I was sober, That very minute. “For my head was bleeding, My heart was a-flutter; And the moonshine within me Was tipping the gutter. “The Ford, it faster And faster sped Till it dipped and swerved And my wife was dead. “Two bruised men lay In a hospital ward One seeking vengeance, The other the Lord. “He said to me: ‘Your wife was drunk, You are crazy, And my Ford is junk.’ “I raised my knife And drove it in At the top of his head And the point of his chin. “O Judge, O Judge, If the State has a chair, Please bind me in it And roast me there.” There was a man Whose name was Pete, And he welcomed death From his head to his feet.