No longer the boys, With their music and noise, Demand your election as mayor; Such a milk-wagon hack Has no place on the track When his rival's a thoroughbred stayer.
With your coarse, shallow wit Every rational cit At last is completely disgusted; The tool of the rings, Trusts, barons, and things, What wonder, I wonder, you're busted!
As soon as that Yerkes Finds out you can't work his Intrigues for the popular nickel, With a tear to deceive you He'll drop you and leave you In your normal condition -- a pickle.
Go, dodderer, go Where the whisker winds blow And spasms of penitence trouble; Or flounder and whoop In an ocean of soup Where the pills of adversity bubble.
End of title
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