Oh that silly wax nurse,
like a ringing elf,
wears a filthy burden;
Asking "Why should I ruin that armor?
Lest pigtailed princesses
need saving from fatalistic farmers,
bible-selling amputees,
& lost charmers;
who
take the child baring rain
& the soft
drunken brains,
to the northern rivers edge,
where there thoughts do not complain
about a pledge of allegiance to the lottery."
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