1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
← OPEN dataBase