Ah, Ted! It has to be said, The {? juicy truth's ?} beyond us. Rain, shine, on Leopold Stein, His ribs remain intact. {? Hedderly Crup ?} is in my garden Breaking wind! I beg your pardon! Don't go breathing! Misery! And don't you all agree?
No fears, the last ten good years, Our statistics prove it, That you'll pose on Erskine's nose; It's you who sets the pace. On the cold and frosty morning, Stop and howl {? And ruse like warning: ?} It's insulation for the nation. That's the one for me!
No draft, 'cause that would be daft, A feather acknowledges beauty. And ball and chain that {? leaks on the pane ?} Can only smash your nerves. In the Highland Agencies And with the best, it stands to please. And no complaining whether it's raining. Thanks to this {? tumultuous day! ?}
