I love it HOT—I love it COLD,
Corned Willie never WILL grow old.
I love it—now PAUSE—listen, friend:
When to this war there comes an end
And PEACE upon the earth shall reign,
I’ll hop a boat for HOME again.
Then to a RESTAURANT I’ll speed—
No dainty MANNERS will I heed—
But to the waiter I will cry:
“Bring me—well, make it corned beef PIE!