THE Empress of beauty don't slice
          Her ears like some tiny bull pup.
She hides them away—so precise.
          She carefully covers them up:
          Then orders the sparkling cup.
                   For a sup.

The brindle cow chews at the cud;
          She has two long beautiful ears.
The piggie pig revels in mud—
          All ears. No deformity queers
          The heifer and little brown steers:
                   They have ears.

Last week as I rode in the trolley,
          I could not control the hot tears.
I sighted that Dolly so jolly,
          The woman without any ears.
          Oh what has become of her ears
                   All these years?

She parted her hair in the middle,
          Then looped it in two drooping gears,
Arranged it down low—quite aquiddle,
          Brave woman without any fears:
          The woman who hides both her ears
                   Many years.

Oh, why should there be such a custom,
          Why steer your ear under the waves?
You might as well dive in and bust 'em
          As bow to all novelty craves.
          Don't swallow the twaddle it craves
                   Digging graves.

You meet them wherever you wander.
          Oh my—see that freak that appears
At th' head of the stairs over yonder,
          The creature with rickety gears.
          The woman without any ears,
                   Now appears.

She thinks she is quite a neat model.
          She blinks, then turns white as she hears
Sweet prattle—The babe that can't toddle
          Lisps, "Mother mine, where are her ears,
          That woman without any ears.
                   Oh these tears!"

We call her the woman without any
          Ears. She sheds oceans of tears.
The starter of fashion sinned when he
          Decreed that all girls hide their ears.
          Yes, girls, hurry up, hide your ears,
                   Quick, my dears.

The first in the dandy caboodle
          The woman without any ears.
Yes, sure—a neat model—no noodle.
          Her hearing the hairy rat queers,
          As into the market she steers
                   Without fears.

The lady that flops down her rats
          Is far from a donkey—no noddle
She certainly laces her slats.
          They call her the high-stepping coddle.
          Yes, really an extra neat model,
                   All toddle.

My dear, hide your ear, it's a duty.
          Just set up your smiles and your wiers,
Pure type of American beauty
          (One charming neat model, my dears).
          The woman without any ears
                   Rightly steers.

Don't sag—follow suit with each wrinkle.
          Trot up and don't fall in arrears.
Take after the stars—ever twinkle
          Fair Lady, quite lacking all fears.
          The woman without any ears.
                   Now three cheers!

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