Where soap, that should soften your skin, only flays you,
Where a horse proves a screw though got through a friend,
Where the loss of your 'cover' confounds and dismays you,
Though assured by the Firm 'if you hold on t'will mend'?
Know ye, in fine, where by pushing and 'rushing,'
This—and much more, down the public throat crams,
Blatant Advertisement, brazen, unblushing—?
If you do, then you've spotted the Planet of Shams."
Though a few paving-stones were hurled at the aged singer, the conclusion of his sons was greeted by a general roar of laughter, the populace apparently recognising the picture of their own chicanery with amusement and relish.