A dude with a chain,
A girl named Jane,
All those I bet you’ll find down the lane,
Sparkling rain,
Lion with no mane
That instead you’ll find in Spain.

A hurricane,
A woman drunk on champagne,
All those you could be told by the nearest Eurasian crane
Gain with no pain,
A side course with no main.
These you will find in Spain.

I hope it wasn’t in vain
I hope you don't refrain
From going all the way to Spain
And remember to go with some fried plantain
Otherwise, by the sword of Anticipation, you shall be slain.