Oh, Everything Looks Bad If You Remember

But He Whose Inborn Worth His Acts Commend, Of Gentle Soul, To Human Race A Friend.

From Now On Walking Is My Beer And Feeling Good Is My Hangover.

Nay If Even In The House Of Hades The Dead Forget Their Dead, Yet Will I Even There Be Mindful Of My Dear Comrade.

Shoulder-to-shoulder, Swing To The Work, We Must - Just Two As We Are - If We Hope To Make Some Headway. The Worst Cowards, Banded Together, Have Their Power, But You And I Have Got The Skill To Fight Their Best.

So, The Gods Don't Hand Out All Their Gifts At Once, Not Build And Brains And Flowing Speech To All. One Man May Fail To Impress Us With His Looks But A God Can Crown His Words With Beauty, Charm, And Men Look On With Delight When He Speaks Out. Never Faltering, Filled With Winning Self-control, He Shines Forth At Assembly Grounds And People Gaze At Him Like A God When He Walks Through The Streets. Another Man May Look Like A Deathless One On High But There's Not A Bit Of Grace To Crown His Words. Just Like You, My Fine, Handsome Friend.