But, ah, today —alas, the change ! Those good old times have faded out; 'Tis —strange indeed, 'tis passing strange, How all these things have come .about.
Now "Coke" and Tango run a race, For the honors in the social cup, And golf and baseball take the place Of poker, dice and seven-up.
And when we stroll in friendly way To read the signs and see the town, The jitneys mark us for their prey, And aeroplanes may knock us down.
The city's lit with 'lectric lights That blaze and blind us as we pass; No more we note, in rooms at nights, The warning, "Don't blow out the gas."
But we still have John Blocker here,M And Ike T. Pryor, good and stout; And they'll come down— you never fear— With what we need to help us out.
And we've George Saunders, too, today; He'll hand us up the welcome ten, Which we'll remit without delay, And which he'll never see again.
Sweet are the whispered words of love; And sweet the poet's honied rhymes; But sweeter far, where'er we rove, The memories of those good old times !
Such are the scenes that we recall; "And still, perchance, for them we mourn; But have a good time— one and all, For, fellers, San Antonio's your'n.