1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
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
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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