﻿There’s a thing they call conjecture 
That has niether form or texture 
And its siren song is ever strong 
To kid the boys along 
And we follow it’s reflection… 
 
Let’s get this right: 
The Esquimos have landed in Long Island. 
Oh mu garsh! 
We must blow up the Brooklyn Bridge, the Manhattan Bridge, The Williamsburg Bridge, the Queenboro Bridge the Tri-Boro-Bridge and run the East River into the Subway Tunnels—oh, my garsh!—to keep the Esquimos from taking Wall St or grabbing-off the Bowery  
Oh, my garsh! 
And the Esquimos send their “dipsy do divers” (stookers) and blast the living Jesus out of the Washington Bridge and North River Ferries so we can’t retreat. 
The hell we can’t, we can cross the Harlem River and go into The Bronx… oh yes that Whitestone Bridge came down too. 
But before we go lets check-up a bit: 
That was our property we helped the Equimos destroy. Dammit Im getting mad, Yes, by g’hod, I’m getting real hostile, we went and destroyed our own property in cahoots with the invading Esquimos and they gave us a boost toward the poorhouse by junking our best bridge into Jersey and sinking all those Jersey Central Pensylvania, Lakawana, Erie, Electric and Public Service Ferries, darn the luck! 
I make a motion this war be moved to Labrador 
I wonder why Herr Hitler left England to get its “needings” last? 
That’s easy (the principle is ) “the further a hawg runs the faster it goes.”—then comes Canada. 
Still think capitalism is worth defending?