Show THOSE NEW SPECS By Gene Fowler I Oh bring to me my cheaters Oh fetch my eyes of glass Ah Bear my ray sight defeaters I And Ill I'll join the class My lamps were good and trusty When I started on my work But lately they grew rusty And the optic orbs did shirk II not the chilly winters Or the inroads of disease That dimmed my dear oh old squinters Till I blurred the Is Ps and andEs andEs Es But when I read of boxers Who dance and hug and stall The heavy traffic shock sirs Sure gives my eyes a fall a wonder that the thc glimmers Did stand the stress and strain- strain Perhaps my new found dimmers I Will ease case the gnawing pain So bring me my dear My windshields for the brow If I must read of Ill I'll be guarded anyhow |