1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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