1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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