1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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