Oh I'm in love with the janitor's boy. And the janitor's boy loves me. He's going to hunt for a desert isle. In our geography. A desert isle with spicy trees. Somewhere near sheepshead bay. A right nice place just fit for two. Where we can live alway. Oh I'm in love with the janitor's boy. He's busy as he can be. And down in the cellar he's making a raft. Out of an old settee. He'll carry me off I know that he will. For his hair is exceedingly red. And the only thing that occurs to me. Is to dutifully shiver in bed. The day that we sail I shall leave this brief note. For my parents I hate to annoy. "I have flown away to an isle in the bay. With the janitor's red-haired boy. "