By the shores of Lake Lambrini,

Near the foothills of Panini,

And the plains of Fegatini,

Through the valleys in betweeni,

Where the flowing Canneloni,

Meets the wandering Marscapone.

In amongst the Machiato,

Near the fading Tinto Rosso,

‘Neath the shading of Lambrusco,

South of Castle Osso Buccho.

Here a local pasta maker,

Bought out by a...

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