We feel a little sadness yet,
Out at the Exposition,
Occasional mists across the eyes
Denote our hearts’ condition;
We’re not the thoughtless, jolly throng
We were not long ago,
Our honored President is dead,
And we all loved him so.
But grief must go its journey now
And tears give place to laughter,
The days of sorrow must pass by
And joy come following after,
For he who’s dead would have it so;
Though tears with laughter mingle
The clown must chalk and paint his face,
His bell-hung cap must jingle.
And like the clown we must go on,
Our show is for the nation,
And we must laugh though hearts may ache,
Of fun must give full ration;
And Laughter’s Lane must ring again,
A street unknown to sorrow,
We mourned our dead there yesterday,
But we must jest tomorrow.
Great crowds will come again full soon
To throng the Rainbow City,
And we must wipe our tears away,
For dirges sing a ditty;
No disrespect to him who’s gone,
He said he wished it so,
So we’ll go on here just the same
And hold the Pan-Am. show.
