1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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