Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
His exaltation shocked both youth and crone
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
Nought can the mouse's timid nibbling stave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
The genealogist with field and fess
With gravity at gravity's great cog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
We'll suffocate before the epilogue
And let you off from your opinions glum
And lessors' dates have all too short a sum