I CARRY ALONG!
THE Despot's SONG!
With a beard that was filthy and red,
His mouth with tobacco bespread [sic],
Abe Lincoln sat in the gay white house,
A wishing that he was dead -
Swear! Swear! Swear!
Till his tongue was blistered o'er,
Then in a voice not very strong;
He slowly whined the Despot's song;
Lie! Lie! Lie!
I've lied like the very deuce!
Lie! Lie! Lie!
As long as lies were of use;
But now that lies no longer pay,
I know not where to turn,
For when I the truth would say,
My tongue with lies will burn!
Drink - Drink - Drink!
Till my head feels very queer!
Drink - Drink - Drink
Till I get rid of all fear!
Brandy, and Whiskey, and Gin,
Sherry, and Champagne, and Pop,
I tipple, I guzzle, I suck'em [sic] all in,
Till down dead drunk I drop.
Think - Think - Think!
Till my head is very sore!
Think - Think - Think!
Till I could'nt [sic] think any more;
And its [sic] oh! to be splitting of rails,
Back in my Illinois hut,
For now that every thing fails,
I would of my office be "shut!"
Jeff! Jeff! Jeff!
To you as a suppliant I kneel!
Jeff! Jeff! Jeff!
If you could my horrors feel;
You'd submit at discretion,
And kindly give in,
To all my oppression,
My weakness and sin!
Baltimore, March., 15, 1862. "Ole Secesh."