Excerpted from The Curse of Drink, 1910.
All? Why, no, there’s a great deal more:
There’s an arm that’s weak and a head that’s sore;
There’s a home that’s filled with grief and woe,
And a wife that’s felled with a savage blow
All? Why, no, there’s a job that’s lost,
There’s an empty purse that can meet no cost;
There’s a watch to pawn and a chair to sell;
There’s money to borrow and a thirst to quell;
There’s an empty glass and a fight or two,
And a fine to pay for an eye that’s blue.
All? Why, no, there’s a demon’s curse;
There’s a child to kick and a wound to nurse;
There’s a home to break and a wife to scrub —
And the song of her life is rub, rub, rub;
There’s a free lunch served in a sample room,
And some chores to do with a rag or broom;
There’s the price to beg for a burning drink,
And a place to sleep where drunards sink.
All? Why, no, there is half untold:
There’s a heart grown sick and limbs grown cold;
There’s a manhood gone and a substitute
That is half a fiend and half a brute;
There’s a place to rob and a man to kill;
There’s a prison cell for a man to fill:
There’s a speedy trial, and a verdict read,
And a wife that weeps as the doom is said,
There’s a curse and a prayer as the gallows fall;
And as for your whiskey, why, that’s all.
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