I’m a radio man for thirty-some years In St. Paul, an old variety show
Like those I used to hear, my dears, When I was a child long ago.
To critics, my show is peppered With little bits of Bob & Ray,
Jack Benny, and Jean Shepherd, But those critics are dying (Hooray!)
And to twenty-year-olds who were born Too late to hear the great Fred Allen
I am the master of the form, Sailing the airwaves like Magellan.
If a thief escapes and is not hung
He may be honored by the young.