1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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