Ah, tu ne perds rien pour d'attendre, the wait is always worth it, my swirling little dervish…
There was a skirmish, backlash,
Kyle of Lochalsh, didgery-doo, a gnu.
Whirlygig, thingamagig, help ma boab.
Or was it a squirmish, devilled eels and no can feels after the dos and don'ts, the wills and won'ts, I should her to think in the blink of another I, I, I.
ô Ragged clause, and something kilt-ered, askew, you!
Ten thousand ours and counting, whose zoos oozed flooze?