Everywhere you go, it's Peyton Place,
Blushing maids poise their fans as screens
Over crimson cheeks, hot from the chase
Of stolen moments; bawdy scenes
That yet hold no candle to the State
The Union's in — the mayor's wearing shades
And slipping out the back door for a date
Or some dictation — motorcades
Bring felons in droves to courts here, everywhere!
The General's overpricing tanks,
Scandals at the office, even at the Fair,
The church — while down by the banks
Of this muddy river freely I take the air —
(Hope no one knows about my little pranks.)
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