1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?