From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
He bent right down and well what did he seize
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
How it suprised us pale grey underlings
The North Wind Bites into his architrave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
And starve the sniveling baby like a dog
Watching manure and compost coalesce
Bard I adore your endless monologue
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum