Prose took the minstrel's verse without a squeeze
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
Replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
That suede ferments is not at all well known
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
In salads all chew grubs before they've wings
The nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
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
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
They're kings we're mammal-cousins hi ho hum