| Well, the doctor comes around with his face all bright
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| And he says in a little while you’ll be all right
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| All he gives is a humbug pill
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| A dose of dope and a great big bill
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| Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?
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| Well there once was a time when everything was cheap
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| But now prices nearly puts a man to sleep
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| When we get our grocery bill
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| We just feel like making our will
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| Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?
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| Prohibition’s good if 'tis conducted right
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| There’s no sense in shooting a man 'til he shows flight
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| Officers kill without a cause
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| Then they complain about the funny laws
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| Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?
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| (Additional stanzas in the original version:)
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| I remember when dry goods were cheap as dirt
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| We could take two bits and buy a dandy shirt
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| Now we pay ten bucks or more
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| Maybe get a shirt that another man wore
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| Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?
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| Well, I used to trade with a man by the name of Gray
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| Flour was fifty cents for a twenty-four pound bag
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| Now it’s a dollar and a half beside
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| Just like a-skinning off a flea for the hide
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| Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?
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| Oh, the schools we have today ain’t worth a cent
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| But they see to it that every child is sent
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| If we don’t send everyday
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| We have a heavy fine to pay
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| Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?
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| Most all preachers preach for gold and not for souls
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| That’s what keeps a poor man always in a hole
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| We can hardly get our breath
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| Taxed and schooled and preached to death
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| Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?
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| Oh, it’s time for every man to be awake
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| We pay fifty cents a pound when we ask for steak
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| When we get our package home
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| A little wad of paper with gristle and bone
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| Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?
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| Songwriter: Alfred Reed |