I am the very model of a modern Fallen Londoner.
I’ve gathered more accouterments than any pirate plunderer.
The rarest of the lot adorn my mantelpiece, so I can gloat.
I hope some day I might devise a way to catch a heptagoat.
I collect one of every thing that might exist down here below.
I’ve many different residences just to hold the overflow.
On holidays I rush to gather oddities ‘fore it’s too late.
As Mr. Pages says, I am hoardacious and obsessivate.
I am uniquely covetous of cider Hesperidean.
I’d sell my aunt to devils if it meant I’d get a sip again.
For a whole firkin I’d ignore all pretense of morality.
For what’s the use of ethics when the price is immortality?
I’ve peddled my velocipede from Ladybones down to the docks.
I know where work the fine young lasses wearing Mr. Wines’s socks.
I’ve strolled the streets of Veilgarden, sampling each honey den
And found the Cave of Nadir, though I really can’t remember when.
I’ve sipped my share of coffee at Caligula’s and played some chess;
Dealt with a nest of LB rats, evicted under some duress.
Though spirifrage as a vocation is a job I can’t condone
I’d offer up a moustached artist so he might leave me alone!
I’ve written prose and poetry; performed before the royal court,
And at the University, found cheating students to extort.
But when I feel musical, I put my poet’s pen aside
And whistle ‘round Mahogany inviting mustelid genocide.
Of correspondence symbols, I know quite enough to stop at six
I’ve gathered marks of credit sold to me by the Numismatrix
With writers fidgeting and boxes full of intrigue to the brim
I’ve piled up more echoes than an urchin with a sack of glim.
I’ve zailed 'cross the Unterzee, as far away as Polythreme
I think my clothing groped me, though that might have been a honey dream.
And why, you ask, have I been caught in conversations with a well?
Good question! Not a wise one, but it seems that only time will tell.
I’d like to take a moment to go OOC, if you’ll permit.
And praise the FL authors for their style and their nimble wit.
So grab a glass and pour some wine and join my toast if you concur;
I am the very model of a modern Fallen Londoner.