Over The Hill To The Poor-house I'm

But I Have Learned A Thing Or Two; I Know As Sure As Fate, When We Lock Up Our Lives For Wealth, The Gold Key Comes Too Late.

To Appreciate Heaven Well, It's Good For A Person To Have Some Fifteen Minutes Of Hell.

And That Was The Way The Deuce Was To Pay As It Always Is, At The Close Of The Day That Gave Us

Over The Hill To The Poor-house I'm Trudgin' My Weary Way.

Cover Them Over With Beautiful Flowers, Deck Them With Garlands, Those Brothers Of Ours, Lying So Silent By Night And By Day Sleeping The Years Of Their Manhood Away. Give Them The Meed They Have Won In The Past; Give Them The Honors Their Future Forcast; Give Them The Chaplets They Won In The Strife; Give Them The Laurels They Lost With Their Life.