1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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