The poem
Because the rhymes I make for raiment Fail to avail its meed of payment, I fain must make my well-worn tweeds Suffice me for tomorrow's needs-- Until my verse the public reads.
I used to go to Savile Row, But now their prices are so high, With royalties at all time low, Because my books few want to buy . . . No, I don't blame them, but that's why.
Well, anyway I'd rather fare In tattered rags and ring my chimes Than strut around in wealthy wear. --So in these tough and trying times Let me flaunt like defiant flags The jubilation of my RAGS.