1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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