Walt Whitman's Niece

Last night or the night before that

And I won't say which night

A seaman friend of mine

And I'll not say which seaman

Walked up to a big old building

And I won't say which building

And would have not walked up the stairs

Not to say which stairs

If there had not been two girls

Leaving out the names of those two girls

I recall a door, a big long room

And I'll not tell which room

I remember a deep blue rug

But I can't say which rug

A girl took down a book of poems

Not to say which book of poems

And as she read, I laid my head

And I can't tell which head

Down in her lap

And I can't mention which lap

My seaman buddy and his girl moved off

After a couple of pages

And there I was, all night long

Laying and listening and forgetting the poems

And as well as I could recall

Or my seaman buddy could recollect

Of Walt Whitman, but not which niece

And it takes a night and a girl

And a book of this kind

A long, long time to find it's way back

Last night or the night before that

And I won't say which night

A seaman friend of mine

And I'll not say which seaman

Walked up to a big old building

And I won't say which building

And would have not walked up the stairs

Not to say which stairs

If there had not been two girls

Leaving out the names of those two girls

I recall a door, a big long room

And I'll not tell which room

I remember a deep blue rug

But I can't say which rug

A girl took down a book of poems

Not to say which book of poems

And as she read, I laid my head

But I can't tell which head

Down in her lap

And I can't mention which lap