A thousand kim

Police, police, Henry and Frankie.
Oh, oh, dog biscuits and when he
is happy he doesn’t get snappy.

I am a pretty good pretzler.
Winifred. Department of Justice.
I even get it from the department.

Please, I had nothing with him.
He was a cowboy in one
of the seven-days-a-week fight.

There are only ten of us. There ten million
fighting somewhere of you, so get your onions up
and we will throw up the truce flag.

No payrolls, no walls, no coupons.
That would be entirely out.
Oh, sir, get the doll a roofing.

The sidewalk was in trouble and the bears
were in trouble and I broke it up.
A boy has never wept nor dashed a thousand kim.

Please crack down on the Chinaman’s friends
and Hitler’s commander. I am sure and I am going up
and I am going to give you honey if I can.

I am half crazy. They won’t let me get up.
They dyed my shoes. Open those shoes.
Give me something. I am so sick.

I will settle the indictment. Come on,
open the soap duckets. The chimney sweeps.
Talk to the sword. Shut up, you got a big mouth!

Please help me up, Henry. Max, come over
here. French-Canadian bean soup.
I want to pay. Let them leave me alone.

These are the last words of New York gangster Dutch Shultz, delivered as he lay dying from a gunshot wound, according to Futility Closet. I removed only one phrase and clipped one other to uphold the form. The last two stanzas are his final words. Submitted by Gabriel Smy.