Now in building court houses, be it not forgot
There’s bound to be a contractor’s profit spot,
Somewhere in the ceiling or floor or roof.
(All of them can’t be inspection proof)
In dome or pillar or colonnade,
Skylight or stairway, frieze or facade,
Covered over with mortar and paint,
But underneath the contractor’s taint;
And perhaps that is why when the architect
Smiled and pronounced his plans correct,
He smiled as he thought those plans might hide
The profits of many a queer divide.