1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
← OPEN dataBase