A right guid frien’ ye are tae me,
Ye gie me strength an’ vigor.
A comforter ye are. But, oh!
If only ye’d been bigger!
I’m a bloomin’ modest ’ero ’oo the boys say never swanks,
And I’ve never told my story to reporters,
But I’ll be a bloomin’ Kiplin’ if they like, by way of thanks,
For the blessed cigarette the post’s just brought us.