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Jezebel...From Israel, |
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Who never read a book, |
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Charmed the literati, |
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And a smile was all it took. |
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I was laughing with Picasso, |
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When she first entered the room, |
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But Gershwin, Tristan, Tzara, |
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And Man Ray saw her too. |
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There was never any doubt, |
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All would try to take her home, |
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But she refused their every move, |
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Preferred to be alone. |
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And a rose...A rose is a rose. |
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Zelda had a breakdown, |
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Fitzgerald hit the bar. |
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His hand was broken, words were spoken, |
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Didn't get too far. |
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Hemmingway was smoother, |
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More debonaire and fun, |
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But he would say her repartee, |
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Was meaner than a gun. |
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And a rose... |
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A rose is a rose is a rose is a rose is a rose... |
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Said my good friend Gertrude Stein. |
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She knows that I go to the ol' Deux Magots, |
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And I drink Pernod through the night. |
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Jezebel...From Israel, |
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Who never read a book, |
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She charmed the literati |
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And a smile was all it took. |
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Before her Joyce will babble, |
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And Pound has gone insane, |
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Eliot is paralyzed by, |
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Thoughts of April rain. |
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When she refused Lenin, |
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He vowed to start a war. |
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Stravinsky beat The Rite of Spring, |
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Right there on the floor. |
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And a rose... |
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A rose is a rose is a rose is a rose is a rose... |
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Said my good friend Gertrude Stein. |
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She knows that I go to the ol' Deux Magots, |
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And I drink Pernod through the night. |
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And then one night she's missing, |
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A riot soon began. |
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No one could stand the thought of Jezzie with another man. |
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I raced down winding streets, |
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I broke into her house. |
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You never guess who Jezebel, |
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Was kissing on the couch. |
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A rose...A rose is a rose... |
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Hi Jezzie. Hi there, Gertrude. |
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Am I interrupting something? |
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A rose is a rose is a rose is a rose is a rose... |
