Six Feet of Earth

H. J. Wehman, Song Publisher, 50 Chatham St., N. Y.

Six Feet Of Earth.

I’ll sing you a song of the world and its ways,
And the many strange people we meet—
From the rich man who rolls in his millions of wealth,
To the struggling wretch on the street,
But a man, tho’ he’s poor, and in tatters and rags,
We should never affect to despise,
But think of the adage, remember, my friends,
That six feet of earth makes us all of one size.

There’s the rich man with thousands to spare if he likes,
But he haughtily holds up his head,
And who thinks he’s above the mechanic who toils,
And is honestly earning his bread;
But his gold and his jewels he can’t take away
To the world up above, when he dies,
For death levels all, and conclusively shows
That six feet of earth makes us all of one size.

There’s many a coat that is tatter’d and torn,
That beneath lies a true honest heart,
But because he’s not dress’d like his neighbors in style,
Why “society” keeps them apart;
For on one fortune smiles while the other one fails,
Yes, no matter what venture he tries,
But time calls them both to the grave in the end,
And six feet of earth makes us all of one size.

Then when you once see a poor fellow that tries
To baffle the world and its frown,
Let us help him along, and perchance he’ll succeed—
Don’t crush him because he is down;
For a cup of cold water, in charity giv’n,
Is remember’d with joy in the skies,
We’re all but human—we’ve all got to die,
And six feet of earth makes us all of one size.

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