ramblings and things

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He wanted to be a Toreador
He'd bought a suit of light
He practised with his mother's cape
Nearly every single working night
He could perform The Veronica
With a certain style and grace
Always maintaining the required
Look of haught there on his face
He felt close to perfection
Felt he'd reached his peak
just needed to face a first bull
Within the next few weeks
From his base in Macclesfield
That place he held dear as home
Prospect he knew were limited
Just knew he'd have to roam
He hitched down the motorway
Ended up at the docks in Hull
Found an economy cabin on
A ferry that wasn't very full
He ended up next day in Europort
And did he feel a fool
Wished he'd learned his geography
Back home in school
Holland was another country
Full of new and different sights
But sadly he soon realised
They didn't stage bull fights
He found a job in Amsterdam
In a place maybe just a little tacky
But to his delight he found
It stocked lots of wacky baccy
He has a new life there now
One of relative bliss and ease
Just himself and his new girl
To consider and to please
Bulls are all safe now I think
He spends each and every night
Wrapped there in his lady's arms
Both giggling high as kites
The moral of this story is
He leads a life so rich and full
If he'd learned his geography right
HeĎd probably be fighting bulls

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