Show n Sink Sink Sink Oer O'er the tops of my shoes 0 O clay And I would that my spirit could banish 1 The words that I fain would say 0 O well for the fortunate girl That she stands on the walk over there to the innocent maid That she treads on the treacherous square And the crowds of students rush on To the halls of science and art But 0 O for a pair of seven-league seven boots Or a sight of the walks that are not t Sink sink sink To thy miry depths 0 O clay 1 But the hideous sight of the rubbers I wear Will not be banished all day 1 The Argus |