Quarter-tooth angled archingly reverse,
her snaggles enrapture me; hither,
come, my fairest, grant me those perverse
acts – lest I, like you, become withere’d!

This, I cannot, allow to come to pass!
Whether by charms, wit, big brains or huge *****,
Whatever cost you pay, I’ll have that ***!
For my be-warted, I’ll indulge no stops.

You can cry, resist and plead, extolling
Unto me the injustice of m’love,
But it shall avail you all of nothing,
As my sights are on that filthy trove.

Flee, run, wail and never cease in weeping
In a steel cage our love I’m keeping.