1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
← OPEN dataBase