In a can hides a little hairy monster
that I never can
grow to love,
so, I kicked the canister,
with it in there, rolling away,
but, bless the thing, green -- obscene,
it sprouted colorful and shiny wings
and broke the tin:
sovereign, imperial, celestial;
flying away ...
And there I watched it go;
Ergo, I stood alone;
I judged on what I see,
And not from what I could know.
thegrouch.wma - Pmel
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