| With apologies to Cole Porter |
| You're the Pits... |
| You're like fresh manure. |
| You're the bits |
| In the City sewer. |
| You're a poisoned thumb, |
| A crumbling slum, |
| A louse. |
| You're a nose that's drippin' |
| You're Doctor Crippen, |
| A haunted house. |
| You're the base... |
| You're what black to white is. |
| You're a case |
| Of appendicitis. |
| I'm a pile of soot, |
| I'm athlete's foot |
| And nits! |
| But if Baby I'm the bottom -- |
| You're the pits! |
| You're the pits... |
| You're a cock-eyed eyeball. |
| You're the writs |
| That I'll get for libel. |
| You're the bottom rung, |
| A song that's sung |
| Off key. |
| You're a bad neurosis, |
| You're halitosis, |
| You're housemaid's knee! |
| You're the worst... |
| You're a wet October. |
| You're the thirst |
| When I wake up sober. |
| I'm badger's breath, |
| The kiss of death |
| With zits! |
| But if Baby I'm the bottom -- |
| You're the pits! |
| © Leonard Morley 2009 |