Day Labor
It's not because I am brave
That I sing when the world goes wrong,
But only that I am slave
To the workaday job of song.
And unless I quit and die,
Which would be a craven thing--
Why, a man must live, and I
Know nothing to do but sing!
If I troll you a merry stave
Of carols that lilt and glow,
It is not because I am brave
But because they are all I know.
So the songs that I make are gay
Like all I have ever made,
For a man must pay his way--
And song is my only trade!
Published in: The Popular Magazine - February 7, 1927
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