It's no matter how exclusive Men may be in social ways, And how uppishly their manners Every one of them displays: Born to home-spun or the purple, Very rich or very poor, They're at home to every caller When the Dollar pounds the door! They may dwell in stately mansions With extensive yards and grounds; They may run their automobiles And play golf through all the rounds; But within their mountain villas Or resorts by ocean shore, They're at home to every caller When the Dollar pounds the door. Whether in the humble station Or the mighty seats of state, Eating crusts to banish hunger Or a-feast on fruits of fate,— There's no one who's found forgetting That great lesson taught of yore, For they're home to every caller When the Dollar pounds the door. Mister Dollar, Mister Dollar! You have such a winning way, Every hour of every day! And no matter where I'm staying, Please break in with rush and roar For I'm always glad to see you, Mr. Dollar, at the door? |