Text: Barbra Streisand. Not Cricket To Picket.

It's not cricket to picket not cricket
Oh, no it's just not coming for 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 an 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 like clothes and food
And money's never talked about
For that would be quite rude
Not cricket to picket not cricket
It's not picket to cricket not picket
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 older than refined
Not picket to cricket not picket
It ain't ticket to stick it not picket
Now offer some
Get each man there a cricket
Oh, dear, where is your decency
No Vanderbilts or Asters
Would ask in such a vulgar way
Be fitting only dexters
I beg you get the hell away
You lousy bunch of...
What do you mean disturbing the peace?
Come with you often
Oh, you see, you're brushing my mink
Get your hands off, kid!
You don't seem to know who I am
Or whom I know
Listen, I'm an intimate friend of Jimmy Walker
You won't get me in the...