Now every day in Newark
Is a whooptedooden day.
And every soul in Newark
Seems to rather like that way,
For it keeps the circulation
Circulating, and the blood,
Mixing with the clay of humans,
Makes a living, lusty mud,
Which is bound to be so fertile
That for years and years to come
The growth of coming Newark
Puts all rivals on the bum,
And the Newark of the future
Is going to be so great
That New Jersey of the future
Will be changed to Newark State.
Newark’s Feigenspan brewery advertised on buildings and billboards across the state and the region, branding its wares “P. O. N.” for “Pride of Newark.” Giant illuminated letters shone from its buildings in the Ironbound even while the plant was shuttered during Prohibition, taken later as proof “that hope burned eternal in the brewer’s breast.” (New Jersey. A guide to its present and past)
Colonel Bill Lampton’s lines appeared in the June 1916 issue of The Newarker, and were reprinted the following year in The Newark Anniversary Poems.
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