The Night Club by Emory S. Bogardus Lyrics
Why make of life the “bunk”?
Why make of fun a brawl?
Why drink until one’s drunk
And land in sticky sprawl?
Why live so near the brink,
A life of trite and plight?
Of caviar and drink?
Of bedlam ruling night?
The day was made for zest,
The Morn to shine with gleams;
The night was made for rest,
The eve for pause and dreams.
Why live so wildly odd,
If man be son of God?
Why make of fun a brawl?
Why drink until one’s drunk
And land in sticky sprawl?
Why live so near the brink,
A life of trite and plight?
Of caviar and drink?
Of bedlam ruling night?
The day was made for zest,
The Morn to shine with gleams;
The night was made for rest,
The eve for pause and dreams.
Why live so wildly odd,
If man be son of God?