The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
The bull's horns ought to dry it like a bone
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
Signalling gauchos very rarely shave
The learning linguist cameramaniac sings
The nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
To prove mamma an adult with a tress
But I can understand you Brogher Gog
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum