My closest of kinsmen, had you but the slightest idea of the unfoldings of such a night as the one the moon currently looks over, you would not be lingering amongst the subtle tonight.
I met a bird today, oh dear patriot of my one man nation. The self same birds the lads whistled upon while they passed by in flamboyant flight. We never did find it within us to pay the slightest ounce of attention to such. Let them flapper on till their wings tire and get sore. Let our feelings stay trapped lest we be under the influence of fruits of the vine in which case we can blame the bottled syrups for any faulty statements of our own making.
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