1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
← OPEN dataBase