1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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