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Socialitism in Scrutanyism

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Lights bright and blinding,
Arena small and cramping,
Crowds loud and unkindling.

Down a microscope is lowered,
Into me pins are pushed,
Up a cry is yowered.

Shall not stray to sanity,
If I am to stay to society,
So I will stay to myselfity.

A teacup for you,
A star for me,
Mad as a hatter you haloo?

Perhaps

But not nearly as mad as you



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