It all depends on how many faces you can wear.
You can travel a distance on three or four;
On a dozen you can go almost anywhere.
They tell me you are a good man for county judge,
A good man despite a conscience as flexible as leather,
Despite the easy promises you genially swear,
Despite the quake of laughter to soothe a voter’s grudge.
I am told one should choose political brothers,
And a man must raise his hand for somebody.
If I should raise my hand, and I lift it for you,
For which face shall I vote?—Yours is shifty as weather.
I think I would choose the one Adam wore
If I could find it under all the others.
A man must raise his hand for somebody.