1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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