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On The Back Of His Head
Oh What A Dusty Burden
No Cider Too Nor Mead Nor Soup
For Spring It Sprung
As Spring It Does
For Us To All Make Merry
And Put The Bees To Work
And Work They Must
The Nectar And The Pollen
So Rot Ferment And Decompose
And Work They Shall
For All The Things To Grow
So All The Things Can Grow
For If They Don't
As Time She Knows
