There's a man in the world who is never turned down,
Wherever he chances to stray;
he gets the glad hand in the populous town,
or out where the farmers make hay;
he's greeted with pleasure on deserts of sand,
and deep in the aisles of the woods;
wherever he goes there's the welcoming hand
-he's The Man Who Delivers the Goods.

The failures of life sit around and complain;
the gods haven't treated them white;
they've lost their umbrellas whenever there's rain,
and they haven't their lanterns at night;
men tire of the failures who fill with their sighs
the air of their own neighborhoods;
there's one who is greeted with love-lighted eyes
-he's The Man Who Delivers the Goods.

One fellow is lazy, and watches the clock,
and waits for the whistle to blow;
and one has a hammer, with which he will knock,
and one tells a story of woe;
and one, if requested to travel a mile,
will measure the perches and roods;
but one does his stunt with a whistle or smile
-he's The Man Who Delivers the Goods.

One man is afraid that he'll labor too hard-
The world isn't yearning for such;
and one man is always alert, on his guard,
lest he put in a minute too much;
and one has a grouch or a temper that's bad,
and one is a creature of moods;
so it's hey for the joyous and rollicking lad
- for the One Who Delivers the Goods!