Oh when I hear the letter “d,”
I think of all those dearest to me.
Daring, dapper, dainty, dandy dearies
Who drive to free me of these
Deliberations detrimental to my psyche.
And I think of many a dame who has plagued me,
Lied, destroyed, and betrayed me,
Closed the door to my heart
And torn my dreams apart.
But when I think of the letter “d,”
I think the most of one lady,
Who bested the dandy dearies
And deserted the dames so dastardly.
And this lady, why she can only be designated
As the desirable dangerous Dee.
My delectable Dee and me,
We were as close as close could be,
Devoted we were, divided we could never see,
Me and my delightful Dee.
But destiny is often a mystery,
And coincide do not the three
Of Dee, myself, and destiny.
Distance took her away from me,
And left me sad and lonely.
Ah, love is a dark cruelty.
So keep all of your p’s and v’s,
Your t’s and g’s and b’s,
But my friends, there is no letter dearer to ears like these
Than those poor old tired D’s.