﻿To Deport or Not to Deport  
By T-Bone Slim 

East side, West side all around the town, 
Folks are entertaining thoughts 
Of darkest, deepest brown; 
Men and matrons gather 
Denounce the blameless stork— 
Police are clubbing the unemployed 
On the sidewalks of New York. 
 
East side, West side, everywhere the same, 
Jobless men and women strive to play this “merry game.” 
Cops are sweet and gentle— 
Hark, the full report: 
“Police are loving the unemployed 
On the sidewalks of New York.” 
 
East side, West side, on the other hand, 
Starving men must be polite and and leave this happy land; 
Lawyers have decreed it—as the last resort— 
Police are rounding the unemployed 
On the sidewalks of New York 
 
East side, West side, foreigners must go, 
Since they can’t quite learn the great American “Kotow”— 
Makes no difference where to, Moscow, Nice or Cork? 
Police are sorting the unemployed 
On the sidewalks of New York 
 
East side, West side, coudn’t stand the test! 
Time was when the stanger was a much sought after guest 
Native sons were jealous, immigrants had pork— 
Now they’re shagging ‘em both alike 
On the sidewalks of New York