The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
The learning linguist cameramaniac sings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
Shallots and sharks'fins face the smould'ring log
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
But I can understand you Brogher Gog
Ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
Soliloquies predict great things old chum