The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
The bull's horns ought to dry it like a bone
Old corned-beef's rusty armour spreads disease
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Signalling gauchos very rarely shave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
Shallots and sharks'fins face the smould'ring log
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
Ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
They're kings we're mammal-cousins hi ho hum