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The road cleaner, playing sweeper,
Collected from the keeper,
And brushed aside a challenge with great class.
Then he swept it to the tailor,
Who threaded it to the sailor,
Who floated o’er a thirty five yard pass.
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The poacher trapped it cleanly,
And skinned the full back cleanly,
Then let the café owner have the ball.
He chipped the poor defender
And then fed the trouser-mender
Who showed some zip by speeding past them all.
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The poor old mathematician
Had been holding his position,
And his slide-rule pass was measured to the last.
The shoplifter nicked it on,
Which was read well by the don,
Who studiously looked around and passed.
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It was carried by the porter,
And brought to the spice-importer,
Who thymed his run and nutmegged the right back.
Then the speedy ice-cream maker
Whipped it to the undertaker,
Who buried it into the onion sack.