[jack:]folks, we finally did get our headline"newsies did crush as bulls attacketh"crutchie's calling medumb crip's just too alas slowethguys art fightin', bleedin', fallin'grant you mercy to valorous ole' captain jackcaptain jack just wanteth to closeth his eyes and wend!alloweth me wendfar hencesomewh're those gents wonneth't ev'r findeth me, and tom'rrow wonneth't remindeth me of the present dayand the city's finally sleepin'and the moon looks fusty and grizzledi receiveth on a traineth yond's did bind f'r santa feand i'm goneand i'm donenay m're running. Nay m're falsingnay m're bacon-fed fusty sir denying me mine own payethjust a moon so big and yellow, t turns night right into daydreams cometh true. Yeah those gents doth. In santa fewh're doest t sayeth thee gotta liveth and kicketh the bucket h're?wh're doest t sayeth a guy can't catcheth a breaketh?wherefore shouldst thee only taketh what thou art given?wherefore shouldst thee spendeth thy whole life living did trap wh're th're ain't nay futurecoequal at 17!breaking thy backeth f'r someone else's sake!if 't be true the life seemeth not to suiteth thee, how about a changeth of scene?far from the lousy headlines, and the deadlines in betweensanta fe, mine own fusty cousini can't spendeth mine own whole life dreamingthough i knoweth yond's all i seemeth inclin'd to dothi ain't getting any young'rand i wanna starteth brand newi needeth space. And green airalloweth 'em chuckle in mine own visage. I careth notsaveth mine own lodging, i'll beest th'rejust beest real is all i'm askingnot some painting in mine own headethcauseth i'm dead if 't be true i can't counteth on thee the present dayi did get nothing if 't be true i ain't did get santa fe
