'Twas A Cold Frosty Morning

It was past eight o'clock in a cold frosty morning 

When bad tempered October blows over the plain,

I heard Manx Radio repeat a loud warning

As restless I sought for sweet slumber in vain:

Then up I arose, the sun shining bright,

Peel Hill and valley appearing all hoary white;

Forth I would go amid the pale, silent day,

To visit my breakfast, toast and coffee, wahey!.

With profuse apologies to Robert Burns.