1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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