all good people stop and stare
at drunken harlots everywhere
on every street, at satan's call
see them stumble, trip and fall
plowed and plastered to the gills
their pathetic pratfalls and sudden spills
warn each coming generation
of the perils of inebriation
and yet their ranks do never dwindle
prey to the devil's eternal swindle
under bacchus' juggernauts wheels
with billowing skirts and broken heels
they land in every molochian gutter
angels in heaven look down and mutter
o can the human race be saved
when by such chains it is enslaved?
ladies, let temptation pass
lay down, lay down the brimming glass
and with fair and feminine graces
show blue heaven unblemished faces
so when the blast of judgment sound
let no woman then be found
sprawled on sofa or in saloon
impervious to salvations tune
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