Oh thou great one whom I adore beyond measure, oh thou bastard and fatherer of bastards — Tucked-away gods whom nobody speaks to anymore.
The drive took forty minutes, stuck behind those farters from the backwoods.
So fret not, like an idle girl, / That life is dash'd with flecks of sin. / Abide: thy wealth is gathered in, / When Time hath sunder'd shell from pearl.
Unwonder me this wonder
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