At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
How it suprised us pale grey underlings
The North Wind Bites into his architrave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
When dried the terrapin can naught express
A bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
From cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
The bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum