The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
The fertile mother changelings drops like kings
For burning bushes never fish forgave
The peasants's skirts on rainy days she'd tress
A bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
From cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
We'll suffocate before the epilogue
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
In cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?