Me an’ th’ boiz, we ben talkin’ ‘bout them
poams
we bin wondr’n jus exzactli what yuins bin gettin at
there
Well ole Jake, he, well you no Jake, hes alwais sturin up truble.
Jake he sais ” Wy don you rite one o’ them poams?”
He sais, “ Ye kud put sum o’ them greek fallers in it and
evrybdy'd think yer real smart
“hell, ye don evn have tu say anithing in perticular
“jus ramble on, thro in a greek faller evry now an then.”
So hier tiz:

Icayrus can ye hold thuh truth
until Poliseefus gits here
Oh Plaito, oh Platloe
don fergit tu ware yer Socrateez