Gather round for six pence you can see King Flatulence..walking in his gold among the green..ass on leather was his way always farting night and day sets his stage.. page on page lies to read then dream of coming greens.. intends smoke brown as brownest beans.. never know what his words mean.. as he grins.. senseless for greedy gleans..
Sun in sky of different blues ruddy brown in future news.. all in all evades to bad.. the worst may yet bring choking sad..
Now industrial revolved brought us tales to hear not solve anti boredom games never evolve..
Until TV ‘based on true’ became a world of all ‘how to’..sensors for each type known to pollute..
Views with news private cruise for rich and filthy destitute.. look oily greed each oil prostitute..
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