ramblings and things

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Fantazia Blue

Fifteen frogs a pile of logs
A woman on the floor
A filthy room a dirty roof
A heavily bolted door

Then up strode Sir Galahad
A figure of the night
Creeping up so silently
Keeping out of sight

Clean the room Sweep the floor
Bring the woman to the door
Not to my liking not to my taste
Has this journey been a waste

Bring back the frogs
Put back the logs
Throw the wench on the floor
Lock and bolt and bar the door

His sword sheathed
The gallant knight
Slid unobtrusively
Out of sight

Fifteen frogs a pile of logs
A body on the floor
A pool of blood in the setting sun
A coroner at the door

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Fantazia Blue