Whoa, Cleveland

Air: Whoa, Emma

A prophet you may call me,
Or anything you chose,
Because I'm in the guessing mood,
And guess which side will lose.
Now when a man makes blunders,
W ho holds a public trust.
And in his mouth he puts his foot,
Say to him, this, I must.


Whoa, Cleveland, whoa, Cleveland,
This kind of work won't do;
Whoa, Cleveland, whoa, Cleveland,
Pull in I beg of you.

As a first-class reformer,
You were known some time ago,
When you were made our President,
By fate's decree, you know;
Civil service was your boast,
But backwards you did go.
And ousted good men did for bad,
The records plain do show.



Your vetoes of those pension bills
Stick in our soldiers' throats,
But when the day of reckoning comes
You'll be minus of some votes.
Perhaps you're right, perhaps you ain't,
But this we ask of you,
Give justice to our veteran's brave,
For 'tis their honest due.



The side you've taken with Free Trade
Is another blunder plain,
Which has stirred the people up,
And on most every brain;
Nothing but protection now
Will with the masses grow,
And by their votes on election day
They sure will let you know.