Wistful Wit a Fist-Full

What is happening to me
And also to the old zombie i used to know?
Of course the words was once spectacular
Now we be talkin' de vernacular
Dis a strange kind of reactium
To de pig we et before
I's immune to de resease
I 'spose from sucking up de grease
From de duo-denum drippings out of the pig before

I could laugh and rub my chin
When my resease come rolling in
It's just like catching a second wind
I feel so gay

So might refer to me as scum
'Cause where dey all be coming from
When de Galoot co-log-na rushin' down the ley
Is underneath some raggedy dirt
In de suburbian outskirts
Of ol' Manhattan traffick happen near the gay white way
I gets clammy saying "Mammy"
I gets chills all up my spine
I gets wistful wit a fist-full of venetian bline
Just like tuggin' on de heartstrings
Just like dem little ol' fallin' apart things
Just like whatever that is that is rotten, yessir!
We surely has not forgotten
How to pretend to sing

Now dis ol' twinklin' eye
Only suckers forced to buy
Dem 'spensive tickets we be sellin' at de door
Now we got Broadway zombie mammies
We got an ugly orphan Annie
And the traditium will go on, and on, and on
I loves to see de zombie fly
It sorta makes ya, makes ya wanna cry
'Cause we's Broadway, we's expensive, and we can't
I said we can't
Can't never die!
Can't never die!

You're too kind