The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
He bent right down and well what did he seize
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
In salads all chew grubs before they've wings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
Southern baroque's seductive dialogue
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
Soliloquies predict great things old chum