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.