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Poor Lil Her name was Lil and she was a beauty, She came from a house of ill reputy, But she drank too deep of the demon rum, She smoked hashish and opium. She was young and she was fair, She had lovely golden hair, Gentlemen came from miles to see Lillian in her deshabille. Day by day her form grew thinner, From insufficient protein in her, She grew two hollows on her chest, Why, she had to go around completely dressed. Now clothes may make a gal go far, But they have no place on a fille de joie, Lillian's troubles started when She concealed her abdomen. She went to the house physician, To prescribe for her condition, "You have got," the doc did say, "Pernicious anem-i-a." She took to treatments in the sun, She drank of Scott's Emul-si-on, Three times daily she took yeast, But still her clientele decreased. For you must know her cliente-le, Rested chiefly on her belly, She rilled this thing like the deep Pacific, It was something calorific. As Lillian lay in her dishonor, She felt the hand of the Lord upon her, She said, "Me sins I now repents, But Lord, that'll cost you fifty cents." This is the story of Lillian, She was one girl in a million, And the moral to her story is, Whatever your line of business is, fitness wins! PFBW, CZB
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!