And the son was Single, and fair as fate;
Oh, the purple of sunset skies!
De Camembert came from his sunny France,
Sing, hey! pork cutlets and pearls!
He would talk sweet nothings, and sing and dance,
Oh, the sighs of the soft sweet girls.
Came Gruyère so pale! a most hole-y man!
Sing, hey! red sandstone and rice!
But the world saw through him as worldings can,
Oh, the breezes from Isles of Spice.