Bumbling bandits, Petrarch wrote, skiddle through
A zittle bittle riddle fron blisted
No lad land, Ardous apples thrown twisted
To babble babble babble skoo the shoe
Createth zanforth dis Hullabaloo.
Men rumbling stumbling to lady kisted
Zeal her wayward high always insisted
She belong to he, to they, in their stoo.

She demand no, go so their throw plath
Hath the zath thath take away the soul mole
From the Toll. Break away a-sway today.
Steal away zon tha shay bay way to laugh
At baboon zoon loon cocoon and to roll
Down no lad land w’out anamble delay.