He bent right down to pick up his valise
His nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Signalling gauchos very rarely shave
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
For burning bushes never fish forgave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
But I can understand you Brogher Gog
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
The bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum