The Harlem Goat
Was feelin' fine
Ate three red shirts
right off the line.
His master Jack
Gave him a whack
And tied him to
The railroad track
The whistle blew
The train grew nigh
The Harlem goat
Was soon to die.
He gave three groans
of mortal pain
Coughed up the shirts
To flag the train,
But the buttons got stuck
In the middle of his throat
And that was the end,
Of the Harlem goat!