A regular sort of a guy

He fights where the fighting is thickest

And keeps his high honor clean;

From finish to start, he is sturdy of heart,

Shunning the petty and mean;

With his friends in their travail and sorrow,

He is ever there to stand by,

And hark to their plea, for they all know that he

Is a regular sort of a guy.

He cheers up the sinner repentant

And sets him again on his feet;

He is there with a slap, and a pat on the back,

For the lowliest bum on the street;

He smiles when the going is hardest,

With a spirit no money can buy;

And take it from me, we all love him 'cause he

Is a regular sort of a guy.

I don't care for the praise of the nations,

Or a niche in the great hall of fame,

Or that posterity should remember me

When my dust and the dust the same;

But my soul will be glad if my friends say

As they turn from my bier with a sigh,

"Though he left no great name, yet he played out the game

Like a regular sort of a guy."