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The Sleepy Giant (By Charles Edward Carry) |
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My age is three hundred and seventy-two. |
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I think, with the deepest regret, |
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how I used to pick up and voraciously chew |
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the dear little boys that I met. |
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I've eaten them raw, in their holiday suits, |
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eaten them curried with rice. |
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I've eaten them baked, in their jackets and boots, |
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and found them exceedingly nice. |
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But now that my jaws are too weak for such fare, |
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I think it's exceedingly rude to do such a thing, when I'm quite well aware |
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little boys do not like being chewed. |
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Little boys do not like being chewed. |
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So I contentedly live upon eels, |
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and try to do nothing amiss, |
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pass all the time I can spare for my meals. |
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in innocent slumber like this. |
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Innocent slumber like this. |
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(More eels my lady? |
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Perhaps some bubble and squeak, |
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or a little toad in the hole? |
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A Lancashire Hot Pot, perhaps? |
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That would be nice. |
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And so now I contentedly live upon eels, |
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try to do nothing amiss, |
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pass all the time I can spare for my meals |
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in innocent slumber like this. |
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Innocent slumber like this. |