When the moon hits your eye
Like a big pizza pie,
That’s amore.
When an eel bites your hand
And that’s not what you planned,
That’s a moray.
When our habits are strange
And our customs deranged,
That’s our mores.
When your horse munches straw
And the bales total four,
That’s some more hay.
When Othello’s poor wife
She gets stabbed with a knife,
That’s a Moor, eh?
