1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
← OPEN dataBase