Too Busy

Trouble will double
If trouble gets room,
But will pine if you leave her
And die in her gloom;
For trouble is lonesome
And moans from the start
If you face her with firmness
And lock up your heart

Sorrow will borrow
Wherever she can,
But will leave when you tell her
You're never her man;
Don't flirt with the vixen,
Don't welcome her face,
But exhort her to leave you
For some warmer place.

Make Trouble and Sorrow,--
The couple that moans--
Keep out of your pathway
And limp on the stones
Just let them go weeping
Through all of the years;
For a man is too busy
To join in their tears.