That music in itself, whose sounds are song, The poetry of speech.
Frienship is eros...without wings
Who then will explain the explanation?
Man is in part divine, A troubled stream from a pure source.
A woman being never at a loss... the devil always sticks by them.
The world is a bundle of hay, Mankind are the asses that pull, Each tugs in a different way And the greatest of all is John Bull!