beat the soles of my feet;
but I don't feel complete without my conceit,
so I'll give you a treat and juggle some meat,
which I'll reheat and eat (with boiled sugarbeet)
in a squeaky old seat that I keep ('cause it's neat).
Then I'll harvest the wheat (that's been growing in peat)
And sell it to Pete, who's French and petite,
But also effete and prone to deceit.
Bonjour Monsieur, avez-vous...
