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Text: You dashing, dressy Barkeeper, for a dandy you would pass, / As with your most exquisite grace you handle well you glass;
/ But your brains are like your liquors, the more they are display'd / The more they show the frothy stuff of which your drink
are made. / I know you flourish very gay, and talk like men of spunk, / But when you're dress'd to death, I'd like to peep
into your trunk, / For it is my opinion, sir, that, if I should you wed, / I'd find your trunk and pockets both as empty as
your head!
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