1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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