Count The Day Won, When The Earth,

Prohibition Is An Awful Flop. We Like It. It Can't Stop What It's Meant To Stop. We Like It. It's Left A Trail Of Graft And Slime It Don't Prohibit Worth A Dime It's Filled Our Land With Vice And Crime, Nevertheless, We're For It.

I Hate The Pollyanna Pest Who Says That All Is For The Best.

The Rich Man Has His Motorcar, His Country And His Town Estate, He Smokes A Fifty-cent Cigar And Jeers At Fate. He Frivols Through The Livelong Day, He Knows Not Poverty, Her Pinch. His Lot Seems Light, His Heart Seems Gay; He Has A Cinch. Yet Though My Lamp Burns Low And Dim, Though I Must Slave For Livelihood- Think You That I Would Change With Him? You Bet I Would!

When The Political Columnists Say 'every Thinking Man' They Mean Themselves, And When Candidates Appeal To 'every Intelligent Voter' They Mean Everybody Who Is Going To Vote For Them

You Do Not Know What You Can Miss Before You Try.