Larry the little toff To me a story brought Of the absurd cock Crossing the country lane To me with a smirk Ask him me, what came O’er it ne’r the lane To amble on just the same A pea for brain I have not Must’v be a dame ov’r the lane To the cock had called out Aroused to her it had ran A laugh arose to this tale Dashed along with a snort Looked me ov’r with air Thence asks o’ me to take note To the lane chanced had the cock Whence it be out on for the stroll Over the road it had spied a rock ‘Pon ‘itch fodder of his grows To fodder, like as night with sun I croaked to the mindless toad Chance be to dare to have fun Was why cock ventured abroad As splinter ‘rought to a fire Pimpl’s broke on the pinkish goose Tossed his mane like a lion in ire A whimper he lets to scamper loose To the sound fine wet runs broke Of the orb an eye to lips small nook Shared to me the hurt roused in the bloc As if games such in me’d make a crook A brow I arched raised Arms to a cross I make To which breaths I liaised Surveys of him I thence take What of puzzle it be Comes he may nigh Hoping ‘haps to dunce me In turn to turn a pitiful cry Hence the cock o’re the ways Reasons be naught to tarry to cross Was split half and many says Unfit for quills in ink to pros As it brag fits of sanity one to lose By asylums to times precious waste O’re a cock whose reasons cross To which’e’re ye orders and taste