 Over here, over here, what a year. Over here, over here. Now look, my boy. For the boys are shaking, the market's breaking. We'll soon be back to nickel beer. Look, look, boy, boy, please. Run along, will you? I'm busy. These people are waiting to talk to me. Okay, okay, but you'll be sorry. I'm going over to Whitmark and selling my masterpiece. Mammy's little baby loves shouting and pumping nickels.