Tom Lehrer scansion

My garden holds a thousand wells, my snail has died of maggots, I flew to Amsterdam tonight and lost a piece of baggage. Does baggage rhyme with cabbage? I don't think I would dare to be so bold and risk it here, instead beware his swirling hair! Once upon John Kettley's mum, A fish-hook I did spot, it felt like several plates of knives, A-smothered deep in snot. Oh childish childish sense of hu—mour and Tom Lehrer scansion; beware his hair, his mouldy stare, Industrial Expansion! Shall I compare thee to a gnat that flies straight up one's nose? I'd rather I didn't, thank you, good riddance! Does this make much sense? Who knows? "Many of these are bad for the hell, except for the literary few. Discuss. Disgust." So spake John Sta—pleton who was made of glue. I'm starting to gibber now (it's rather alarm—ing, I'm sure you'll without doubt agree) they're coming to take me to the new funny farm that they've built on the minor North Sea.