1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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