from the fruit vagabond? Yessir.
Got those thorny kind from down
by the well. The eaves displayed for
us, dispelling thus / our doubt evident
fearsome people are people still
people still moving like decibels
through different apartment's bevels.
Yes, I excell. At Quiddich over the
naked wrangling well (where the
under-thumped are indifferent,
finally, Estonia, quelled) and
find frompy friends at the frat
house. Sometimes I slept at the
library. Sometimes I slept at the
countertop. Some nights I hooved
it to the country shop. Nice shows
there. Nice shovels; they dug well.
He whom is Doug has dug smells,
like electricians light up the night:
when I see big cities I think about
advances in construction technology
and electrical engineering. These
things become very extraordinary.
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