The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
Through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
For burning bushes never fish forgave
The genealogist with field and fess
Shallots and sharks'fins face the smould'ring log
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
But I can understand you Brogher Gog
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb