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The Fine Old Fossil Bachelor


I'LL sing you a fine old ballad, made by a fine old pate,
Of a fine old fossil bachelor -- the doughface candidate;
Who in the White House wished to dwell -- but as he had no mate,
The people thought for one lone man the mansion was too great,


For the fine old fossil bachelor,
Who was put up too late.

This fine old fossil bachelor to anything would swear,
And if the party told him to, would vow that round was square;
And to his principles was false, and changeful as the air,
But faithful to ambition for the Presidential chair,
Like a fine old fossil bachelor,
Who never could get there.

For while the fossil bachelor abode 'neath other skies,
The vandals of his clique tore down a solemn compromise,
And built a structure black and foul in all the people's eyes,
And placed a platform on its top that was made up of lies,
Where the fine old fossil bachelor
Might stand and show his size.

And the fine old fossil bachelor was to the platform led,
And then they placed the party noose just underneath his head,
But the platform was a gallows-drop, and yielded to his tread,
And kicking off his boots, he hung, politically dead;
That fine old fossil bachelor,
From the platform stained blood-red.