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hard days night
as drunk as a handcart asleep in the hay whilst the moon shone its light twas over today he had drunk at the boozer his tally was nine he was out of this world drunk on the wine his day had been long market and sows three little piglets ten Cheshire cows sold of his livestock the crow crowed at dawn he awoke with a headache alone and forlorn Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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