I Refuse To Believe It
I've refused to quite believe it
The first thing I'll cast into pit:
A man keeping a grace feline,
Whereas he quaffs a lot of wine;
Better than all of us name signs,
Fine Table Manners as he dines;
In the streets makes no careless call,
Steady strides while The Sober fall.
Keep I shall taxing my poor wit:
An endless search for answers fit...
Until then, to God the Glory:
Let Him this surprise make hoary.
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