Classic Poem

G IUSEPPE S PALDONI was hit by a brick
That some one unkindly had hurled at his head.
Then the pompous old coroner found that the foreigner,
Sad to relate, was decidedly dead.
So the mayor put it up to the district attorney
To find out the way that Spaldoni was struck.
For it's part of the pastime, the jolly old pastime,
The national pastime of passing the buck.

The district attorney just smiled and sat tight,
Then he passed it along to the chief of police,
Who, with frightful invective, assigned a detective
To search out the cause of Spaldoni's decease.
Then the sleuth gave the case to his junior assistant,
Who said: “This here job I am anxious to duck.”
For it's part of the pastime, the jolly old pastime,
Our national pastime of passing the buck.

If ever you chance to be injured or killed
And official assistance you feel that you need,
Do not bother and worry because they won't hurry,
The rules of the game don't permit them to speed.
Oh, they'll chase you around from the roof to the cellar,
If you land in the right place at all you're in luck,
But it's only the pastime, the jolly old pastime,
Our national pastime of passing the buck.