From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
His nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
Old corned-beef's rusty armour spreads disease
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
In salads all chew grubs before they've wings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
And starve the sniveling baby like a dog
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
The bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum