Ang-Bang-Pang.

O hae ye heard the latest news     O' Mistress Mucklewame?     Her doctor hadna pickit up     Her trouble here at hame,     Sae they took her tae a speeshalist     To fin' oot what was wrang,     An' it seems noo a' the bother     Has been ang-bang-pang.     Faith, in the marriage market then     Her man's had little luck,     She's just a muckle creishy lump     That waddles like a juck;     But the nerves gaun through her body's     Been the trouble a' alang,     An' its complicated noo, ye see,     By ang-bang-pang.     I've aye held oot oor doctor     Was a skeely man afore,     But I'll never lat the cratur noo     A stap inside the door!     A' up an' doon the parish     It has made a bonny sang,     That he didna ken his neebor's wife     Had ang-bang-pang.     They've pit her in hot water baths     To lat the body steep,     They're feedin' her on tablets     Frae the puddens o' a sheep,     They're talkin' o' a foreign spaw     Upon the continang,     They think they'll maybe cure her there     O' ang-bang-pang.     There's mony ways o' deein' that     Oor faithers didna ken,     For ae way foond in "Buchan," noo     The doctors gie us ten;     But I hope to a' the Pooers abune     Auld Death may be owre thrang     To come an' smoor my vital spark     Wi' ang-bang-pang.