Friar Abbot , brother Friars, ladies and gents Don’t expect too much of me, I confined to melody, And further more I must confess, I don’t know just how to express. The depths of my appreciation;
Just why you honor me in vain I cry to figure out, I don’t know what it’s all about. Never the less I want to thank you while I syncopate , I appreciate you wonderful kindness. Making what you'd call a speech is a way beyond my reach, All I can do is shout a bit, Twill bore you, there's no doubt of it, But it's the only way out of it;
For days and days I worried as to what I'd have to say, So worried that I hurried to Rumsey one day and shouted, What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do? I never made a speech, tell me. What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do?
John Rumsey answered, don't you let that worry you, I'll tell you what you do, I know a certain Friar, his speeches are sure fire. Go to Havez, Jean Havez, Len Wolf, Sam Harris and the rest of them went to Havez, Jean Havez, He written speeches for the best of them"
And so I went to Jean for my routine, He say "Don't worry, Sonny. I'll writing something funny''. The speech he wrote was like the Morning Telegraph, it didn't have a laugh. The jokes he told were oh so solemn, like the ones in Renwood's column;
All I could do was write a rag. I had to rag the same old gag. But I can't express my feelings to a rag. The minute that I begin ragtiming, I've got to keep on rhyming. My rhymes if there are any, are not so very many. You bet I'd keep on going if I could rhyme like Cohan, But now I must be stopping before my speech is flopping. Here's to the Friars, here's to them; (kind applause, kind applause, kind applause) With apologies to Victor Herbert. Here's to the Friars. Ladies, gents, and music buyers. All I can say is I thank you, thank you with all my hearts.