"There's beer in Chicago,
and them boys is thirsty in Mar-a-lago,
we got a run to make....."
Big Enos and Little Enos done throwed down the gauntlet on them old boys. So bust-off the flaming chicken, burn on them radials and lay it in fourth gear.
Done switched off the ambient loop of ocean waves crashing.
But then we have, a sort of shadow-hand poetry,
which uses murder scenes to tell love stories.
"Oh drat!
Look at that:
naked fat man
got a severed hand!"
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