Long ’z you elect for Congressmen poor shotes thet want to go
Coz they can’t seem to git their grub no otherways than so,
An’ let your bes’ men stay to home coz they wun’t show ez talkers,
Nor can’t be hired to fool ye an’ sof’-soap ye at a caucus,—
Long ’z ye set by Rotashun more ’n ye do by folks’s merits,
Ez though experance thriv by change o’ sile, like corn an’ kerrits,—
Long ’z you allow a critter’s “claims” coz, spite o’ shoves an’ tippins,
He’s kep’ his private pan jest where’t would ketch mos’ public drippins,—
Long ’z A.’ll turn tu an’ grin’ B.’s exe, ef B.’ll help him grin’ hisn,
(An’ thet’s the main idee by which your leadin’ men hev risen,)—