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Sweet Rosebud

Sweet blue father walks by with his swaying hips,
He keeps tune with the thick waves of blue grass.
A wandering stalk between his thin lips.
As he oiled his grand old bit of brass.
He has a sweet rosebud in the attic,
Keeping watch with the swifts and the barn owls.
Time is a-tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock, tick
You may catch him awake past twilight howls,
As he waits at the door to protect sweet Rose.



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