The Tatler (New York)/Volume 1/Number 1/Idiotic, Isn't It?
IDIOTIC, ISN'T IT?
By HAROLD ATTERIDGE
WHEN you figure this life that we're living
It's a question of mere getting breath
We are here for a time
For no reason or rhyme
And the future holds nothing but death.
Idiotic, isn't it?
II.
If you save all you earn you're a miser
If you spend all you earn you're a joke
In the struggle for wealth
You acquire bad health
Still the doctors can't live if you're broke.
Idiotic, isn't it?
III.
You give pain to someone when you're brought here
You're in pain when you bid life goodbye
Though it's all of no use
You attempt to produce
Someone else who will soon have to die.
Idiotic, isn't it?
IV.
When you're single you feel you should marry
When you're married you want to be free
Oh, I waste all my life
Being mean to my wife
And she's doing the same thing for me.
Idiotic, isn't it?
V.
When a working man works till he's tired
He goes in a saloon for his ale
Then some Congressman fine,
With his house stocked with wine
Says "No beer or you'll go off to jail."
Idiotic, isn't it?