I have more pants than I need.
Among them are the three pair of corduroy slacks
that I never wear
for fear of chafing.

For fear of chafing
and because of the coloration of one of the pairs:
it’s white
and I’m afraid of collecting dirt
on white clothes
so I rarely wear them.

For fear of chafing,
wearing white
and the size of the wale on my black pair.
The cords on that are so wide,
I feel kind of silly in ‘em.
They come out when my laundry pile is pretty high
and there’s little left to wear.

So for fear of chafing,
wearing white,
the size of the cords on the pants…
and the general clown design.
My last pair have flares
and a couple of flowers on the calves.
I bought the pants for a costume
that I wore once.
It didn’t have the effect I was hoping.
I ain’t wearing them again,
but I can’t just throw them out.
What am I, a Rothschild?

So I’ve got three cords and they’re not being seen.
Three cords, and I wash my hands clean of them.
Three cords, please don’t think it selcouth.
I’ve got three cords, that’s the truth.