Who is Charlie Bang-Bang? (a tin pan, end with flourish)
A sinister Mandarin, they've been known to say,
With a pistol the size of a gherkin.
But I heard once he DJ'd at Blue Heaven
And all of the regulars felt like chicken.
Then there's this placard, this C. Bang-Bang
Past the Longwood stop, by the old folks,
Got spider plants in the windows,
and Cab Calloway all day, all day.
Be gone, Charlie Bang-Bang! Begone,
or be known, but to haunt us ...
we hear you in the rail
Squeal, Charile, in the tire pop, in the radiator all day ...
We bite your very nails when we bite our hours
Off the clock and spit them at you to hear ... hear ...
We hear stories .... we hear.... hear....
Hear all about Charile Bang-Bang. Oh! Oh!
HERE. HE. COMES.