1930 Cocktails by "Jimmy" late of Ciro's London

Champagne for our real friends and real

pain for our sham friends.

Here's to your car and my car-may they

never meet.

In through the teeth, Over the tongue, Look out, stomach, Here I come.

Here's to love; it may be blind but mostly

it just doesn't give a damn.

Here's to you, my dear, and to the dear who's not here, my dear; but if the dear who's not here, my dear, were here, my dear, I'd not be drinking to you, dear, that's clear.

The Lord gives us our relatives; · Thank God we can choose our friends.

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