1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
← OPEN dataBase