 | OLD ALCOHOL.
A SONG. Water-drops |  |
24. OLD ALCOHOL.
A SONG.
Old Alcohol's the foe
Of virtue, and of man,—
He lays his victims low,
We'll fly him while we can,—
And seek the rill
That gushing flows,
The antidote
For all his woes.
Old Alcohol's the friend
Of sin, despair, and death,—
Let us his fetters rend,
And shun his burning breath,—
And seek the rill
That gushing flows,
The antidote
For all his woes.
Of virtue, and of man,—
He lays his victims low,
We'll fly him while we can,—
And seek the rill
That gushing flows,
The antidote
For all his woes.
Old Alcohol's the friend
Of sin, despair, and death,—
Let us his fetters rend,
And shun his burning breath,—
And seek the rill
That gushing flows,
The antidote
For all his woes.
| OLD ALCOHOL.
A SONG. Water-drops | |