The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
That suede ferments is not at all well known
It's one of many horrid happenings
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
The fertile mother changelings drops like kings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
We'll suffocate before the epilogue
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
The best of all things to an end must come