Wake! For the sun from its dark bed begins to rise
And placing warm bright kisses on your eyes
Bids them open that you may learn the
Little death, like you and me, also dies.
And as the light illumes the towers of glass
Wherein the wage-slaves their dull hours pass
Rather than wages let us seek
Our wealth in drunken hours to amass
The street lamps yielding to greater lantern fade
We enter the ready store to gain the aid
Of six packs and forties of liquid gold
And mere coins for this heavenly elixir trade
See part 2 here
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