The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
A bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
We'll suffocate before the epilogue
Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb