There was a man in our town, and he
was wondrous rich;
He gave away his millions to the colleges
and sich;
And people cried: “The hypocrite! He ought
to understand
The ones who really need him are the children
of this land.”
When Andrew Croesus built a home for children
who were sick,
The people said they rather thought he did it
as a trick,
And writers said: “He thinks about the drooping
girls and boys,
But what about conditions with the men whom
he employs?”
There was a man in our town who said that he
would share
His profits with his laborers, for that was
only fair,
And people said: “Oh, isn’t he the shrewd and
foxy gent?
It cost him next to nothing for that free
advertisement.”
There was a man in our town who had the perfect
plan
To do away with poverty and other ills of man,
But he feared the public jeering, and the folks
who would defame him,
So he never told the plan he had, and I can hardly
blame him.