Over The Hill To The Poor-house I'm

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

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 All Our Happy Country - Over All Our Nation Spread, Is A Band Of Noble Heroes - Is Our Army Of The Dead.

If There's A Heaven Upon The Earth, A Fellow Knows It When He's Been Away From Home A Week, And Then Gets Back Again.

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.