My toes were cold ,like frozen strips of fish
Chill- blains threaten,I must not choose this
I’ll buy some woollen tights and knit some socks
Keeping warm in winter with the flocks

Podiatry is on the NHS
And so my lady kind I vow to bless
Gentle as a mist on Whitby shores
Warmer than the sea,I can’t say more.

I ought to wear some warmer clothes at night
I have a little cat his name is Blake
He will not eat his dinner, he wants mine
I wish he were a man and we could dine

My fingers are as cold as stainless steel
Was it I who made the motor wheel ?
I like ellipses yet they do nor roll
Though neither does a dollop of hot coal

When we all are old we’ll go to God
He recycles people with his Rod
Some of us come back as Eskimos
I can guess that just by my cold toes

I prefer a hotter place to live
Hell has its attractions like a sieve
Naughty people have more fun I feel
I want to change my feet into small wheels

In the end, it’s good to feel and hope
Before we turn into the holy smoke