here in the swamp I'm fettered and chained, beaten and bloodied and kicked in the brains, mother, I fear I shall never be free since I stole a pencil from Nance Pelosi, o, give me a jug and a good murder tug and the waves of the free rolling sea
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back of the napkin stuff there, we can send it to the Jews in Tin Pan Alley for polish
End of conversation
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