She is the one they call Professor Higgins
Turning knaves into gentlemen is her trick
Her genuine interest will raise the station
Of any pitiful Tom, Harry, or Dick
Her best subject has no roof over his head
Desperate, uneducated, unwashed ones
Are most grateful in her laboratory bed
“She must be insane,” all her neighbors mutter
Every time they notice her getting dressed up
For her Saturday night trip cruising the gutter
The most certain thing she could possibly know
Locate a stray dog that has nowhere to go
Then back to her place for a hot meal and drink
And draw him close to her before they can blink
Most of these students will not exit her door
Sadly that is when they usually bore
Others learn quickly and find their own place
Then Professor Higgins is back to the chase
A promise of wisdom for which they all yearn
She has little to teach is what they all learn
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