Lyr. Add: IT'S THE SYME THE WHOLE WORLD OVER
Carl Sandburg, H. L. Mencken and Anon. The American Mercury

1
It's the syme the whole world over,
It's the poor what gets the blyme,
While the rich 'as all the plysures.
Now ain't that a blinkin' shyme?
2
She was a parson's daughter,
Pure, un-styn-ed was 'er fyme,
Till a country squire come courtin',
And the poor girl lorst 'er nyme.
3
So she went aw'y to Lunnon,
Just to 'ide 'er guilty shyme.
There she met an Army Chaplain:
Ornst ag'yn she lorst her nyme.
4
'Ear 'im as 'e jaws the Tommies,
Warnin' o' the flymes o' 'ell.
With 'er 'ole 'eart she had trusted,
But ag'yn she lorst her nyme.
5
Now 'es in his ridin' britches,
'Untin' foxes in the chyse
Wi'le the wictim o' 'is folly
Makes 'er livin' by her wice.
6
So she settled down in Lunnon,
Sinkin' deeper in her shyme,
Till she met a lybor leader,
And ag'yn she lorst 'er nyme.
7
Now 'es in the 'Ouse o' Commons,
Mykin' laws to put down crime,
W'ile the wictim of 'is plysure
Walks the street each night in shyme.
8
Then there cyme a bloated bishop.
Marriage was the tale 'e tole.
There was no one else to tyke 'er,
So she sold 'er soul for gold.
9
See 'er in 'er 'orse an' carriage,
Drivin' d'ily through the park.
Though she's myde a wealthy marriage
She still 'ides a brykin' 'eart.
10
In a cottage down in Sussex
Lives 'er payrents old an'lyme,
And they drink the wine she sends them,
But they never, never speaks 'er nyme.
11
In theur poor an' 'umble dwellin',
There 'er grievin' payrents live,
Drinkin' champayne as she sends 'em
But they never, never can forgive.
12
It's the syme the whole world over,
It's the poor what gets the blyme,
While the rich 'as all the plysures.
Now ayn't it a bloody shyme?

Carl Sandburg, 1927, The American Songbag, pp. 200-201, with musical score. Harcourt, Brace & Co.