That some mealy-mouthed mugs are so sweet on; if they cop us, life ain't wuth much.
Contrydicting myself? Oh, well, Charlie, I've sech a blarmed pain in my 'ed,
And life looks a queer sort of mix wen you boss the whole bizness from bed.
Dan the Dosser, who knows the Square well, 'aving slep in it night arter night,
Sez the Golden Calf safely railed in by the Law is a 'eavenly sight.
Acos Horder is 'Eaven's first Law, and, in conserkense, Law Earth's first horder;
The Calf may sit safely hinside, whilst Scapegoats is kep hout of the border.
I can't git the 'ang of his lingo; his patter's all picter somehow,
And wot he quite means by that Calf, mate, I dunno no more than a cow.
But the Scapegoat, that's him, I suppose, and he looks it; it's rough, as he says;