A New England Folk Song

By D. Rebman '22

Art by O. Rival '21


I was born in a little old burg

Called Boston, Massachusetts

Ma and Pa never loved me much;

To them I was just a nuisance.


At twelve years old I started my path

At the local equestrian center

I got the idea I might ride away

And go on a blue-blooded bender


When Pa yelled I didn’t have the guts,

My upper-lip didn’t give a quiver.

I whispered dammit Pa you may be right

But at least I still got my liver.


What’s a WASP-y boy to do

but sing this cold and lonely tune


Years passed by and I turned eighteen

admittance letters came in the mail

Ma spoke to me for the first time in months

Said you ain’t fuckin goin’ to Yale


Well I got to Harvard like ma wanted,

And there were fraternities to rush

The booze and co-eds left me

With an inch of rope to push.


What’s a WASP-y boy to do

but sing this cold and lonely tune


I graduated with a 1.5

And a job at my pa’s firm,

But apparently the way I talked

Made my secretary squirm.


I kept my job and Cindy didn’t.

Guess that’s how business works.

December I got my bonus–

connections’ little perk.


What’s a WASP-y man to do

but sing this cold and lonely tune


My apartment was feeling lonely

So I figured I ought to find a wife.

I’d known Jan Humphrey since we were twelve

(before she went under the knife).


Spent three months wages on a diamond ring

And hid it in her golf glove.

My parents approved and hers did too

So the only thing missing was love.


What’s a WASP-y man to do

but sing this cold and lonely tune


Ten years later my triplets were born,

And I gave each a respectable name.

Blond haired blue eyed all alike

Were Preston, Quincy, and James


At Dartmouth all three defended

For their varsity lacrosse team.

They settled out of court, but

Still owed those girls Big Green.


What’s a WASP-y man to do

But sing this cold and lonely tune


Quincy and Preston found good wives,

But James had always been funny

Imagine Jan and my surprise–

His butler’d been calling him “honey”.


Quincy is a finance man

Working at Morgan Stanley.

He sees his kids on weekends,

and they never eat as a family.


Preston died at twenty-eight

In a tragic boating mishap

As he gassed up he lit a cigar

A little too close to the fuel cap.


What’s a WASP-y man to do

But sing this cold and lonely tune


I retired around a year ago

and live quietly with Jan.

James visits just sometimes–

Does that make me Peter Pan?


That’s the whole of my life,

And you’ve heard my sordid tale.

The only way it could’ve been worse

Is if I had ended up going to Yale.

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