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The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
When masons clutch the breath we hold on loan
The Turks said just take anything you please
That suede ferments is not at all well known
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Nought can the mouse's timid nibbling stave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
And starve the snivelling baby like a dog
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
But I can understand you Brother Gog
Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum