1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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