From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
Which neither time nor tide can long postpone
How it suprised us pale grey underlings
The North Wind Bites into his architrave
The fertile mother changelings drops like kings
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
To prove mamma an adult with a tress
Bard I adore your endless monologue
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
Fried grilled black pudding's still the world's best yum