Over The Hill To The Poor-house I'm

Thanksgiving-day, I Fear, If One The Solemn Truth Must Touch, Is Celebrated, Not So Much To Thank The Lord For Blessing O'er, As For The Sake Of Getting More!

Worm Or Beetle - Drought Or Tempest - On A Farmer's Land May Fall, Each Is Loaded Full O' Ruin, But A Mortgage Beats 'em All.

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

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

Boys Flying Kites Haul In Their White Winged Birds; You Can't Do That Way When You're Flying Words. Careful With Fire, Is Good Advice We Know Careful With Words, Is Ten Times Doubly So. Thoughts Unexpressed May Sometimes Fall Back Dead; But God Himself Can't Kill Them When They're Said.