Neist time I glisk you in a glass,
I’se warrant I’ll mak’ siccar.
A man’s a clean contrairy sicht
Turned this way in-ootside,
And, fegs, I feel like Dr Jekyll
Tak’n guid tent o’ Mr Hyde....
Gurly thistle—hic—you canna
Daunton me wi’ your shaggy mien,
I’m sair—hic—needin’ a shave,
That’s plainly to be seen.