What holy cities are to nomadic tribes - a symbol of race and a bond of union - great books are to the wandering souls of men: they are the Meccas of the mind.
G.E. Woodberry
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One Mint Julep
One early morning, as I was walking
I met a woman, we started talking
I took her home, to get a few nips
But all I had was a mint julep
I don't remember just how I started
I only know that we should have parted
I stole a kiss, and then another
I didn't mean to take it further
One mint julep was the cause of it all
The lights were burning low, there in the parlor
When through the kitchen door, up popped her father
He said "I saw you when you kissed my daughter
Better wed her right now, or face a slaughter!"
I didn't know just what I was doing
I had to marry of face ruin
A mint julep, a mint julep
A mint julep, a mint julep
One mint julep was the cause of it all
Now, I don't want to bore you with my troubles
But from now on I?ll be thinking double
I'm through with flirting and drinking whiskey
I got six extra children from a-getting frisky
A mint julep, a mint julep
A mint julep, a mint julep
One mint julep was the cause of it all