God save the bank of Malaya fair,
From chaos worth not a prayer,
Like bitter brew in earthenware,
Strong the risks it doth bear.
Novo's draught of health divine,
Carefully they assign,
Like hoarded ale, yet ye shall pine,
For in their cells they confine.
Good news from Lufthansa's flight,
Fulfilled dreams of height and might,
Like frothy brew in holy rite,
Their prospects gleam in God's light.
