Millennium

The great millennium is at hand.     Redder apples grow on the tree.     A saxophone is in evry band.     Brandy no longer taints our tea.     Dimples smile in the red-rouged knee.     The dowagers are no longer fat.     Radio now makes safe the sea,     And the Turk has bought him a derby hat.     Even our sauerkraut now is canned.     Verse is a dangsight more than free.     A highboy now is the old dish stand.     Evry flapper has her night key.     Chopin is jazzed into melody.     A child is a kiddie and not a brat.     Bosses and miners at last agree,     And the Turk has bought him a derby hat.     All firewaters are bravely banned.     There is a ballot for every she.     The hairpin now is a contraband.     A New York mayor gets some sympathy.     My dealer brings some coal to me.     The plumber is an aristocrat.     In Miami all millionaires may be,     And the Turk has bought him a derby hat.     Son, the millennium is at hand!     What though Armenians be mashed flat?     The world is getting just perfectly grand,     For the Turk has bought him a derby hat.