1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
← OPEN dataBase