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Harold Rome

"Not Cricket to Picket" (karaoke)

"Not Cricket to Picket" (sheet music)


It's not cricket to picket, not cricket.

Oh, no, it's just not "comme il faut" to picket.

You haven't any right, you know.

You're acting in great haste.

Just think of the predicament

In which your boss is placed.

And "entre nous,"

I think it's in exceedingly bad taste.

Not cricket to picket, not cricket.

 

It's not cricket to picket, not cricket.

Atrocious and "gauche," you know, to picket.

Go home and starve like gentlemen,

Not like a noisy brood.

Real ladies never make a fuss

Though they lack clothes and food.

And money's never talked about

For that would be quite rude.

Not cricket to picket, not cricket.

 

It's not cricket to picket, not cricket.

Now, go away or you will get a ticket.

You're acting just like foreigners

With names like Serge or Olga

Or Rooshians or Itralians

Or some uncultured Bulgar.

You'll pardon me for saying so,

But you are being vulgar.

Not cricket to picket, not cricket.

 

It's not cricket to picket, not cricket.

Uncultured and unmannerly to picket.

You know you're misbehaving.

Now, you mustn't lose your mind.

You're being so inelegant

And, frankly, quite unkind.

Excuse my indiscretion,

But you're all darned unrefined.

Not picket to cricket, not picket.

 

It's not ticket to stick it, not picket.

Now, officer, give each man there a cricket.

Oh, dear, where is your decency?

No Vanderbilts or Astors

Would act in such a vulgar way,

Befitting only dastards.

I beg you, get the hell away,

You lousy bunch of bastards.

Not picket to cricket, not picket.


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