No. 4 of 6, from "Songs of Rosa Lee"
"Increase in Crime" (1872)
(Words by J. C. J.)
Composed by Billy De Vere

St. Louis: BALMER & WEBER
Plate No. 2957#3
Lithography: A. McLean Steam
[Sources: 07433@LoC; (032/051a@Levy)] 

1.
I've been thinking of late, I've been thinking,
  My thoughts can scarcely define,
I've been thinking why people should wander
  At America's increase in crime.
Cries old Uncle Sam, it's a poser,
  There's something I can't understand,
I would give up a trifle to know, Sir,
  Why crime should increase in our land,
We have peace, we have plenty of gold, Sir,
  Our Banks are all full as can hold, Sir,
We could buy the whole world I am told, Sir,
  Yet still there's an increase in crime?

2.
It's true what you say, Uncle Sam, Sir,
  We've riches in heaps stored away,
Moldy with rust and mildew, Sir,
  Guarded by night and by day.
While you, like a dog in the manger,
  Your gold to yourself you confine,
When a little would make a great change, Sir,
  In this terrible increase in crime.
For expenses I don't care a jot, Sir,
  Politicians you feed the whole lot, Sir,
While the poor man with hunger may rot, Sir,
  Uncle Sam, can you wonder of crime?

3.
Cay you wander at crime, can you wonder?
  When you see the police on their beat,
Arresting the poor Costermonger
  For earning his bread in the street
While a thief on the corner stands grinning
  In the broad open light of the day,
Your pockets he'll pick for a shilling,
  And the law cannot touch him, they say.
While he laughs with contempt and derision,
  Defies the whole police division,
The poor Coster you'll throw into prison,
  Uncle Sam, can you wonder at crime?

4.
Just own what I say, Uncle Sam, Sir,
  Temptaation is hard to resist,
Just look at our poor needle-girls, Sir,
  Now trying their best to exist.
Can you wonder at their protitution,
  When blood sucking firms only give
Enough to ward off destitution,
  A girl, though she's ppor, she must live.
There's the poor working girl God defend her!
  With feelings as pure and as tender
As your proud city ladies, remember,
  Uncle Sam, can you wonder at crime!

5.
Just think, while you're drinking your wine, Sir,
  How the poor of our union are fed,
While you with your rich folks can dine, Sir,
  'Tis a Godsend for them to get bread.
Go, visit the homes of the poor, Sir,
  Such a  sight you will never behold
The prison-dens go and explore, Sir,
  Then scatter your hoardings of gold
When a little would soon break asunder
  The chain that the poor suffer under,
Go and list to that great sob of hunger,
  And never more wonder at crime.