1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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