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She speaks in lingo Like foreigners speak gringo In all forks of the great America Around and out of this awesome Africa She comes online Doing this shows she recline On the dawn and night of her words Designed to have faith of coming birds That would chirp Of grace that won't be usurp For foes to run far from gathering bee Walking out for daily bread in concord's decree If the network roll The ball off the hole Yet right there stationed tee Without a proportional appointee It has actually let You stay away from bet Over the doubt here and there Holding still the beet cut unaware Learn to loose the belt Rather than the wandering temper Between cold and hot thoughts to melt Yearning down lonely lane grieving distemper Shall you willingly tint Your face print of a hint And leave me to clues up to nine That quite look good as thoughts twine That caught me in a net She knits under my own tent Without a threat of any sweat Strategize to ferment my consent Oh it was pretty cool Naming the simple tool Which harbours three in a box Thoughtfully after it has flummox The moment grows mum Through a logic of no medium Making the flashing lights go dim Uncontrollably loving to grease and gym Time don't tell when it's due Of what momentums ensue Rehearsing what future shall mime Comfortably without been tagged a crime Hope this won't die in mud And waste away all the blood Innocent of being a crook legally But claimed to be one accidentally Send it to delete the rig And bother not the sweat that dig Either unlawfully or lawfully, get rid The electrons flowing endlessly through grid Before it touches any fir And leaves an everlasting slur Which over time becomes so rigid Loamy soil won't romance roots being frigid Later it would When in the wood There is so much cold To make system responses bold Whenever I log in And there she is not I would rather use oil or gin To make sure I draw getting hot For my sake Where truth lies awake It never seems shaken but still What a moveable regulatory hill!
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