which makes thinking sublime
and leads poets to rhyme
like a Klingenthal chime
in its second year prime.
Playing tunes to the mime
in a garden of thyme –
death by nickel-and-dime
bless mein heim, mein sweet heim.
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I do consider
I shall not share them.Those of poor mannersjust stay away you wankersyou are not welcome.It’s strictly envyyou know that you’re inferior,consumed by hatred.To me you’re nothinga windbag full of flatusand diarrhoea.
Der Mensch ist eigentlich recht dumm,
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So you asked what is wrong with the world that we see
And he knows that we sing a benign rhapsody,all the music says money is stronger than truth