1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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