We’re taxed for water, streets, and gas,
And “Bobbies” by the score—
Ah, everything is changed, Jack,
From the happy days of yore!
But, worse than all, the weather, Jack,
Has quite “gone to the dogs”—
In May we’d sleet, in June we’ve frost,
In July we’ll have fogs;
I cannot leave the house, Jack,
But I shiver with the cold—