1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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