1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The genealogist with field and fess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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