Now I read where Mr. Hoover tells the folks to lay off hoggin’,
We’ll be needin’ lots of grub to put the Fritz on the toboggan;
And the way that they’ve responded makes you feel so awful proud
That you’d like to meet old Bill to take his measure for a shroud.
Lord, it’s plenty that we’re gettin’, but I’d be dancin’ jigs
If they’d pass an order home to stop a-killin’ off the pigs.
For it’s bacon, bacon, bacon,
Till your very soul is shakin’—
If I could pick me eatin’, it’s a different song I’d sing;
I’d not miss a raidin’ party,