And eggs ... boil ’em hard.
The poet with the “redundant beard” chants next.
Waitress, with eyes so marvellous black,
And the blackest possible lustrous gay tress,
This is the mouth of the Zodiac
When I want a pretty deft-handed waitress.
Bring a china bowl, you merry young soul;
Bring anything green, from worsted to celery;
Bring pure olive oil, from Italy’s soil ...
Then your china bowl we’ll well array.