And ushers our next high holiday—the dead of the night's high noon!
[A WORM WILL TURN]
I love a man who'll smile and joke
When with misfortune crowned;
Who'll pun beneath a pauper's yoke,
And as he breaks his daily toke,
And ushers our next high holiday—the dead of the night's high noon!
I love a man who'll smile and joke
When with misfortune crowned;
Who'll pun beneath a pauper's yoke,
And as he breaks his daily toke,