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| John, Door County |
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| Money |
Who needs money?
I do honey,
I'll spend it funny,
Or I'll buy a bunny,
So give me the money,
Please honey. |
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| My Inner Poet |
My inner poet looks like he was
run over by a lawn mower
3 horns along his shaved head,
tongue sticking out,
slobbering with a grin.
He sees hilarious things,
That no one else can.
He listens while laughing
to Grandma got ran over by a
Raindeer.
He likes the color of sickening
green.
He's never seen real life.
He wants me to let him
out.
He's 209 years old.
He knows something I don't
and won't share. |
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