Forbidden Fruit

Eight days to beer! A sigh sweeps thro' the nation Sweeps like a gale from 'Frisco to New York. ('Say! But it's tough, this long anticipation. Oh boy! I'm rarin' to get at that cork!') Six days to beer! Was ever waiting bleaker? And how the dull days drag their slow length by! ('Aw, say! Just let me at a foamin' beaker! But, nothin' doin'. I'm a legal guy.') Four days to beer! How slowly Time is creeping, Turning the pages with a laggard hand. ('Say, honey, dope me so that I stay sleeping Until the glorious Sixth dawns o'er the land.') Two days to beer! ('Shucks, I can't wait much longer!') One day to beer! To luscious, legal beer! ('Ah, hold me, honey! help me to be stronger.... Now, attaboy! The glorious Sixth is here!!..') 'Here's how! ... Say! What's the stunt? This stuff is phoney! It aint got no kick! It palls! It disappoints! It's just the stuff that guys like Al Capone An' such tough eggs sell in speakeasy joints! Here's me, been lookin' for a time right regal, Lickin' me lips an' rarin' to begin... Sure, this is beer, all right; but now it's legal. It don't taste half so good... Say, pass the gin'