Every night after I've eaten my tea,
I treat myself to a little tangerine,
I eat the fruit and keep the seeds,
and save a plot from the weeds,
I peel, I soak, I sow, I joke,
that this time, I'll grow a grove,
the kind where lovers toil,
and brothers' bloods boil,
where he could finally propose,
or where your mate Mickey broke...
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