If You Hit A Pony Over The

When The Cambrian Measures Were Forming, They Promised Perpetual Peace. They Swore, If We Gave Them Our Weapons, That The Wars Of The Tribes Would Cease. But When We Disarmed They Sold Us, And Delivered Us, Bound, To Our Foe, And The Gods Of The Copybook Headings Said: "stick To The Devil You Know."

If You Can Meet With Triumph And Disaster And Treat Those Two Impostors Just The Same.

On The Road To Mandalay, Where The Flyin'-fishes Play, An' The Dawn Comes Up Like Thunder Outer; China 'crost The Bay!

'e's All'ot Sand An' Ginger When Alive, An''e's Generally Shammin' When'e's Dead.

Politicians. Little Tin Gods On Wheels.