As CHUM and pal I have been hailed
By the fallen and the failed:
As comrade I have halved my crust
With dust-stained children of the dust;
As brother I have lipped the drink
Of sunken ones too low to sink
I find them cronies good enough,
Their souls still filled with finer stuff
Than all the solemn, righteous folk
Who never stoop to crack a joke
Aye, the elect ones of the Lord
Quite frankly make me sick and bored.
If yonder sleek, round-bellied priest
Is on the list for Heaven's feast,
If Jesus died to help the rich
Relieve their endless money itch,
I don't need Feast or kingdom Come;
I'm for the Hobo and the Bum,
The soul " that's mildewed to the core, "
For brother thief and sister whore;
And if theirs is the road to hell,
I like the journey very well.