I Am The Very Model Of A

Posterity Will Know As Little Of Me As I Know Of Posterity.

There's Fish In The Sea, No Doubt Of It, As Good As Ever Came Out Of It.

To Sit In Solemn Silence On A Dull, Dark Dock In A Pestilential Prison With A Life-long Lock Awaiting The Sensation Of A Short, Sharp Shock From A Cheap And Chippy Chopper On A Big, Black Block.

What Though I Cannot Meet My Bills? What Though I Suffer Toothache's Ills? What Though I Swallow Countless Pills?

No One Can Have A Higher Opinion Of Him Than I Have; And I Think He's A Dirty Little Beast.