William Randolph's Hearse Poem by Paul Kesler

Oh, William Randolph's hearse was a pretty little thing,
When you pressed a little button you could hear the angels sing.
Sure, a dead man's hard of hearing, but what is that to you
Who can still pick up a paper and enjoy your goodies too?

Oh, William Randolph's hearse was a pretty little cart
as it traveled down the boulevard with million-dollar art;
you could see the statues laughing that were stationed near the doors,
there were cherubs, trolls, and mermaids curling cutely from the floors.

Oh, William Randolph's hearse was a pretty little nosh,
all the gingerbread in jollytown was there and looking posh -
here were jellies, there was brandy, and a marzipan parade,
where a princess and a pauper sported grandly through the glades.

Oh, William Randolph's hearse was a pretty little cage,
where the birds and bees cavorted and where nothing ever aged;
you could see old Willie grinning from the middle of his zoo
like a Lenin wrapped in linen or a spider trapped in glue.

Oh, William Randolph's hearse was a pretty little jewel,
we always knew his enemies were just a pack o' fools,
you can see them near the mermaids with the nooses 'round their necks,
with their tongues of black ceramic, and their faces in a wreck.

Oh, William Randolph's hearse was a headline for our time,
we can't think for the life of us why he was up for crime,
for what's a little bribery or grafting here or there,
when he's left us such a legacy, and perfume in the air?