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.
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