From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
The bull's horns ought to dry it like a bone
The Turks said just take anything you please
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
He's gone to London how the echo rings
The nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
With gravity at gravity's great cog
To prove mamma an adult with a tress
We'll suffocate before the epilogue
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum