87 / 98
Friend of my soul, this goblet sip,
'Twill chase the pensive tear.
'Tis not so sweet as woman's lip,
But oh, 'Tis more sincere.
Here's to Adam, the radio inventor; he
made a broadcasting station out of a rib.
Here's to you, as good as you are;
And here's to me, as bad as I am.
But as good as you are, and as bad as I am;
I'm as good as you are, as bad as I am.
After man came woman-and she has been
after him ever since.
Here's to low necks and short skirts-may
they never meet.
89