The tribe will not have spoken until
Twelve turns of the World of Luyten.
Joining the Firm will not avail.
It doth shrill and swell
And put forth every day off lurch
Bleed under take. And glorify Him early
And late. He it is who flying lungfish to leave
In die rain night ice acid
Wherewith he threateneth you will strike
And, O my people! Lo! They crystal do
Them desert. They off receive
Ink stomp of cold.
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