Non indexable, meta

Lions roar because they have a sore throat. I learned this in Morocco, when one came at me with his mouth open. I stuck in my arm and a lemon drop. He purred, he blinked, and he followed me to Fez. The ruler there gave him a seat on the council.

Compasses point north because I owe money in the south. At least, mine does. It swung away from Spain with great care and saved me many awkward talks. An honest one would have led me straight to an innkeeper in Seville, and he has a long memory and a longer stick.

Trumpets are dangerous in the wrong lungs, and mine are the wrong lungs. I blew a single note near Jericho, just for fun. Some old stones shifted. A goat fell over. A man in Damascus dropped his lunch. I put the horn away and have since kept it under lock.

Geese fly south because I told them to. Before my day they wandered about in circles and froze. I drew a map on a barn door and gave a short lecture. They took careful notes. Every fall a few of them still honk my name as they pass over the house.

Bathing is dangerous at my size and strength. I sat down in a Hungarian.