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100,000,000,000,000 poems
The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
His nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
O Parthenon you hold the charger's strings
Signalling gauchos very rarely shave
In salads all chew grubs before they've wings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
And starve the sniveling baby like a dog
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
The best of all things to an end must come
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