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! ?}