.Vakna I otta, drog på meg skod'n,
Gjikk ned te bisk og leid av.
Og nei koss dæ kjeta når sjele kløyvde taket.
Te himmels, Sankt Peter, guddag!
Og englad'n fortalde meg koss detta hadde hendt:
Du gleid og stupte beint imot ein butt.
Og fyri livet ebba, du mulla for deg s.
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