He bent right down to pick up his valise
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
It's one of many horrid happenings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
What things we did we went the whole darned hog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
Bard I adore your endless monologue
Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum
Soliloquies predict great things old chum