Prose took the minstrel's verse without a squeeze
The answer is they could be twins full-grown
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
How it suprised us pale grey underlings
Whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
From cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
We'll suffocate before the epilogue
And let you off from your opinions glum
The bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum