Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
That suede ferments is not at all well known
It's one of many horrid happenings
The North Wind Bites into his architrave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
With gravity at gravity's great cog
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
But I can understand you Brogher Gog
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
The bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum