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EXPRESS SONG. Am.—A little more Cider,
Erastus Brooks, of the Express,
Is really nominated For Governor of New York State ;
Oh ! isn't he elated ? He'll swell and strut and strut and swell,
And cut up many a caper, And lots of monstrous dirty stuff,
Will publish in his paper,
Chorus.—And a little more lying, too, And a little more lying, too, A little more lying he'll be trying, A little more lying, too.
For this he's struggled long and hard.
And done all sorts of evil: He's sold his body to the south,
His soul unto the d-------1.
Iago honest, was a trump,
But could'nt hold a candle To honest 'Rast of the Express,
In dealing out the scandal.
Chorus.—And a little more lying, too, &c.
Fremont's religion much concerns,
Our politician pious ; He fears he is a catholic,
Does modern Ananias; And in the face and eyes of all
The plainest contradictions, His brazen sheet reiterates
The Cook & Fulmer fictions.
Chorus.—With a little more lying, too, &c.
He knows he lied within his throat,
When first he penned the slander, But that old vacant squirrel hole,
It riz dog Noble's dander. Although he knows there's not a man
Believes him for a minute, As long as there's an empty hole,
He'll keep a barking in it.
Chorus.—Aud a little more lying, too, &c.