Weirding up ye olde...


the equity that our poorer relations knew
Over the hair and under the stag of this day's Boots wet from rain and not so modest but boldsome bold for ruin They're traditional long and better than a new Not so dim in their shirts with Meat in their math with Olde country beer Who's last to this race Who's sitting alone in the corner today flocked grand and grave Found beneath this pigeons limb Those long necked birds long drooping noose No shovel to vote No dry to tinder this offer for poor in the storm Mah neck does ache Mah cuffs don't fit and this stool won't stay in the rain - all the fountains below  

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