bark, of evenings distension what, be ex-football have, in the
springtime don't even mention anything but my shoe I can be the god you
never knew. And waft and wind my way through you Well, sort of like
your uncle, rather, To be or not to be is just a bunch of blather.
my, my, what is that you've got there? It's a wee little bunny I
cought in a
I inserted a slinky deep into his snoot