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Greetings from A Depressionist
My local bank is ‘busted’
My firm went up in smoke,
The friends with cash I trusted
All tell me that they’re broke.
My rich old Aunt in Windle,
With one foot in the grave,
Was caught in a stock swindle.
And now must scrub and slave.
My B and L is frozen,
They can’t lend me a cent,
The cashier got a travel yen
So off to Europe went.
I tried to hock my full dress suit.
But Old Abe shook his head.
He said it was’nt worth a toot,
All dress affairs were dead,
I though my wife could get a job
When democrats got in,
But they are thinking of the mob,
That guzzles beer and gin.
When Christmas comes with Yuletide cheer,
You feel you want to send,
Good wishes for the coming year,
At least to an old friend.
This card may look like my last cent,
But old pal don’t get sore.
The wishes back of the intent,
Are worth a great deal more,
The Angels sang o’er Bethlehem fair,
Good Will and Peace to Men,
That you may get more than your share.
I pray the Lord, --Amen.
Christmas, 1932 John C. Bieri
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