IV.

Yesterday I stood behind your chair When you was kind of bendin' down to write, And I could see your neck, so soft and white, And notice where the poker singed your hair, And then you looked around and seen me there, And kind of smiled, and I could seem to feel A sudden empty, sinkish feelin' where I'm all filled up when I've just e't a meal.

Dear Frankie, where your soft, sweet finger tips Hit on the keys I often touch my lips, And wunst I kissed your little overshoe, And I have got a hairpin that you wore— One day I found it on the office floor— I'd throw my job up if they fired you.