Hain't It So?

When a feller's broke and busted, The world steps on his toes; He's just a pest and nuisance — That's the way it always goes.

For when you're out of money, You're out of luck, old kid; There hain't a single friend in sight, All of them have slid.

For, them good old pals remember When the skies were fair and blue; And just slip away like shadders When the coin runs out on you.

But, oh boy, when you got the money! How they laugh and cheer, And take you 'round a-singin', "Hail, hail, the gang's all here!"