1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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