1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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