Askew and adrift in the corporate sky
on the sanctified search for the infinite tie
the symetrical dots and parallel dyes
suffice to make the good man cry.
From the wordly wired to the bloody blithe
to the cattiest fat cat from the smallest fry
the sartorial savants love to vie
for the coveted coup of coolest tie.
The witty widths and platitudinous plies
so cool so cold so bad so high
titter and scoff from side to sigh
pruned and primped on paisley's pride.
The skirts are slit and the heels are high
of the fleetest sleekest lady lithe
who'll turn her head when you catch her eye
with the dedotted de-doowop of tritone tie.
Klee's balloons might burst or fly
when he painted his pictures and drank his rye
well it seems to me that he knew why
and you know he never even wore a tie.