Three roads of life run out, my lad,

Be choosing where you'll go

The first one's grade is steeply down

And ends quite far below.

The middle road of life, my lad,

Is neither one to say,

It leads straight on and out, I know,

But the end and middle's gray.

And the third road runs to the top, my lad,

and its steep to honor and fame;

But I'd have to remember this, my lad,

The three roads start the same.