1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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