It ignores the sycophant’s sly, smooth tricks
And the man who tries to droll.
It shunts a cold, climbing, cynical cad
As it would a plain damned fool.
In short it’s a sane sort of potpourri
Or a melting pot, you know,
For “high brow,” “low brow,” no brows at all,
Or flotsam who just come and go.
Yes, the Poor Man’s Club is a leveling place
For the man with mental bumps.