He bent right down to pick up his valise
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
Old corned-beef's rusty armour spreads disease
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
The learning linguist cameramaniac sings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can't depress
Shallots and sharks'fins face the smould'ring log
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum
The best of all things to an end must come