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Penicuik, that nice weetoon,
The rain wizpoorindoonandoon. Wi watery hair an soakin clothes WeeWullie through the deluge goes. Nae canopy does him protect. Thaire’s a macho image tae project. Wull reaches hame, puir drippin loon. Nae fires are lit acause it’s June.
He staggers, shiverin, afftae bed,
Then wakens up tae find … he’s dead!
A martyr tae
tough manhood’s proof, Wull died a happy fellie. Naebodycaw’d that lad a poof Fur raisin’ an umberelly.