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funny poem

what do i owe to you
risen from the dead
if the red slayer think he slays
now for a brisk and cheerful fight
and with the humming bird
now while my lips are living
these be
let us express our baser passions
give me hunger
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white
when the veil from the eyes is lifted
be not false
among the smoke and fog of a december afternoon
very well, you liberals

 



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