That good ol' Patrick Constantine,
        But good is the wrong word.
He loved his money and was mean,
        His antics were absurd!

All his wishes were our command,
        His selfish spirit soared.
His dreaded rule controlled the land,
        The voice of hell had roared!

How to control this brawny beast,
        Was much a mystery.
"Well, we could stuff his mouth with yeast, 
        Then shove him up a tree!"

That was the end of Constantine,
        The plan had worked out well.
No longer was this dreaded man
        Creating living hell!