When one with t'other straightaway agrees
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
He bent right down and well what did he seize
And empty cages show life's bird has flown
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
The fertile mother changelings drops like kings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
A bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
To prove mamma an adult with a tress
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
Soliloquies predict great things old chum