THE RUMSELLER'S SOLILOQUYI had rum, and gin, and brandyAll made of whiskey, too,And all arranged so handyTo tempt their thirsty view.Oh! no they need not talk it,Those were happy times.With hand in drunkard's pocketHauling out the dimes.Was I starving others?Then so let it be;Those children and the mothersDid not belong to me.While lying in the gutter,A mother's loving son,Conscience began to mutterAt the deed I'd done.Then came this consolationJust in the nick of time;The law of state and nationHad legalized the crime.For I had got my license,Had paid my license fee;So the squeemish nonsenseHad no effect on me.The brewers of the nationTo the constitution go,To save their occupationFrom the prohibition blow,Wonder if the constitutionWould reinstate me here;Defend me from invasionWhile selling rum and beer.For temperance is booming,My license now is dead,And poverty is coming,My children cry for bread.Gambling I've been tryingBut could not stand the test;With all my cheat and lyingI came out second best.I wish I'd stuck to labor,Earned my bread by honest toil,Like my hale and happy neighborWho ploughs and tills the soil.My flesh is made of lager,My muscles weak and lax;I cannot turn the auger,Swing the hammer or the ax.My children's cries so wounding,My heart with anguish torn;My troubles so confounding,I wish I'd not been born.The thread of life I'd severAnd lay myself to rest;But thoughts of the foreverSend trouble to my breast.Should I meet with retributionBeyond the bounds of time,Neither law nor constitutionWould legalize the crime.
I had rum, and gin, and brandyAll made of whiskey, too,And all arranged so handyTo tempt their thirsty view.Oh! no they need not talk it,Those were happy times.With hand in drunkard's pocketHauling out the dimes.Was I starving others?Then so let it be;Those children and the mothersDid not belong to me.While lying in the gutter,A mother's loving son,Conscience began to mutterAt the deed I'd done.Then came this consolationJust in the nick of time;The law of state and nationHad legalized the crime.For I had got my license,Had paid my license fee;So the squeemish nonsenseHad no effect on me.The brewers of the nationTo the constitution go,To save their occupationFrom the prohibition blow,Wonder if the constitutionWould reinstate me here;Defend me from invasionWhile selling rum and beer.For temperance is booming,My license now is dead,And poverty is coming,My children cry for bread.Gambling I've been tryingBut could not stand the test;With all my cheat and lyingI came out second best.I wish I'd stuck to labor,Earned my bread by honest toil,Like my hale and happy neighborWho ploughs and tills the soil.My flesh is made of lager,My muscles weak and lax;I cannot turn the auger,Swing the hammer or the ax.My children's cries so wounding,My heart with anguish torn;My troubles so confounding,I wish I'd not been born.The thread of life I'd severAnd lay myself to rest;But thoughts of the foreverSend trouble to my breast.Should I meet with retributionBeyond the bounds of time,Neither law nor constitutionWould legalize the crime.