1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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