Mine gracious, dot vos drue!
I dinks mine hed vas schplit abart,
He kicks oup sooch a touse:
But never mind; der poys vas few
Like dot young Yawcob Strauss.
He asks me questions, sooch as dese:
Who baints mine nose so red?
Who vas it cuts dot schmoodth blace oudt
Vrom der hair ubon mine hed?
Und where der plaze goes vrom der lamp