Dear Julius Caesar,

You Roman geezer,

Dead allrounder,

( To the point )

Your horse is fatter

Thats the matter

Kicks off riders

( Well, smothers them )

Will only eat the finest stew,

Mixed in with a bit'o'brew

Then for Pudding,

Yet another feast

chocolate treacle

with snaps of yeast

Orange juices

Freshly squeezed,

Think cooks job has been eased

Then of course he starts to demand

Any luxury on hand

Before long he's lying on a bed of roses

People cheering,

He's striking poses

Then of course,

We have to smile,

And say,

"It'll only go on for a while"

please sir,

what can we do?

From

Tom