Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
Th'outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
What things we did we went the whole darned hog
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
But I can understand you Brogher Gog
On fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
The bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum