Folks is talkin’ ‘bout de money, ‘bout de
silvah an’ de gold;
All de time de season ‘s changin’ an’ de days is
gittin’ cold.
An’ dey ‘s wond’rin’ ‘bout de metals, whethah
we ‘ll have one er two.
While de price o’ coal is risin’ an’ dey’s two
months’ rent dat’s due.
Some folks says dat gold ‘s de only money dat is
wuff de name,
Den de othahs rise an’ tell ‘em dat dey ought
to be ashame,
An’ dat silvah is de only thing to save us f’om
de powah
Of de gold-bug ragin’ ‘roun’ an’ seekin’ who he
may devowah.
Well, you folks kin keep on shoutin’ wif yo’
gold er silvah cry,
But I tell you people hams is sceerce an’ fowls
is roostin’ high.
An’ hit ain’t de so’t o’ money dat is pesterin’
my min’,
But de question I want answehed ‘s how to get
at any kin’!
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