Long before there was Flipper, fledgling movements were soaring, back when pancakes were flapjacks, and the twenties were roaring, Carefree women had such fun, life was something to savor, each disdainful of dress codes, and straight laced behavior, With their hair bobbed in ringlets, and some really strange hats, dresses slit almost thigh high, they were just where it's at, In Speak Easies they chattered, to pinstripes in wide ties, makeup accentuating, their big, mooney bright eyes, Some with smokes on long holders, liberated at last, puffing Lucky Strike filters, with long lashes downcast, In the days when the floozies in their flophouses frolicked flappers set off a fashion, that is still melancholic, I wish I had been living, in the days of the flappers, in my zoot suit and cigar, standing tall and quite dapper, To have loved such a lady, extroverted and free, dancing late horizontal, would have satisfied me, They were bred from restrictions, women's sufferance created, butterflies bursting forth, from cocoons men created. They are timeless, though vanished, their sweet spirit lives on, in today's modern woman, whose both tender and strong. Somewhere far back in time, they still whirl, laugh and dance, in the haze of a jazz club, in the mists of romance.
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