When one with t'other straightaway agrees
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
They both are right not untamed mutterings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
The fertile mother changelings drops like kings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
With gravity at gravity's great cog
Watching manure and compost coalesce
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
And let you off from your opinions glum
In cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?