Whistle While You Walk
As kids growing up On the Lower East Side We wore corduroy Knickers That whistled Because our knees Rubbed together With each and every step This was a primitive Precursor GPS For our ever Vigilant mothers
She always knew Wherever we were (and presumed) Even if we were Out of sight Whatever mischief Was about to be At Hand (From Sam Levinson) “Go tell your Brother Albert – Whatever he’s doing …Stop!”