There was once a poor boy, and he left his country home,
and came to the city to look for work.
He promised his ma and pa he would lead a civ'lized life,
and always shun the fatal curse of drink.
Once in the city he got a situation in a quarry,
And there he made the acquaintance of some college students.
Little thought they were demons, for they wore the best of clothes,
but the clothes do not always make the gentleman.
They tempted him to drink, and they said he was a coward;
At last he took the fatal glass of beer.
He'd found what he'd done he dashed the glass down on the floor,
And he staggered through the door with delerium tree-mens.
Once upon the sidewalk he met a Salvation Army girl,
and wickedly be broke her tambourine.
Oh she said, 'Heaven bless you' and placed a mark upon his brow,
With a kick she'd learned before she had been saved.
Now, as a moral to young men who come down to the city,
Don't go 'round breaking people's tambourines."
"Don't cry constable. It is a sad song."
-W.C. Fields, The Fatal Glass of Beer
7:35:54 AM 
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