Lives of poor men oft retnind ns, Honest...

Lives of poor men oft retnind ns, Honest toil don 't stand a chance, The more we work there grows behind u Biggftr patcbes on onr pants. On our pants once uew and glossy Now are stripeB of different hne, All becanse subsoribers linger And won't pay us what is dne. Then let us all be up and doiug, Seud your mite, bnwever small Or when the snows of winter leave us We shall have no pants at all