R-E-M-O-R-S-E

The cocktail is a pleasant drink;
It's mild and harmless — I don't think!
When you've had one, you call for two,
And then you don't care what you do.
Last night I hoisted twenty-three
Of those arrangements into me.
My wealth increased, I swelled with pride,
I was pickled, primed, and ossified;
But R-E-M-O-R-S-E!
The water wagon is the place for me.
I think that somewhere in the game
I wept and told my maiden name.
At four I sought my whirling bed;
At eight I woke with such a head!
It is no time for mirth and laughter,
The cold, gray dawn of the morning after!
If ever I want to sign the pledge
It's the morning after I've had an edge;
When I've been full of the oil of joy,
And fancied I was a sporty boy!
The world was one kaleidoscope
Of purple bliss, transcendent hope.
But now I'm feeling mighty blue —
Three cheers for the W. C. T. U.!
R-E-M-O-R-S-E!
Those dry Martinis did the work for me;
Last night at twelve I felt immense,
To-day I feel like thirty cents.
My eyes are bleared, my coppers hot,
I'll try to eat, but I cannot.
It is no time for mirth and laughter,
The cold, gray dawn of the morning after!