1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
← OPEN dataBase