Prose took the minstrel's verse without a squeeze
Through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
How it suprised us pale grey underlings
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
In salads all chew grubs before they've wings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
And starve the sniveling baby like a dog
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
Bard I adore your endless monologue
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb