But in to-day's wild Socialistic Babel
Blest if I always know just where we are.
But if I'm out of work, or out of fuel,
Me and a many thousand like me, mate,
Your "friendly" conflict seems a leetle cruel
To us, with idle hands or empty grate.
I'd like to taste the sweets of "solidarity"
In this connection; so would my pale friend;
He's a poor Clerk. I fancy human charity,
All round, a lot of bitter strife would end;