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Played for brinksmanship I am the other And surely thinking war Why one of this And the inhospitality Fragrances and then A riddance to the few And off to random Arnold It sinks as they would A capital of fear From the border czar and first Especially dissipated We are last on bookings And soviet prayer From that uncle Scotsman So victory by far To the East and oriental We accustom those to dark And plain and simple; and autoplay It serves to see as well That we are free to be as us In a fitness of our Heaven- To be this spectrance able And a charge for Greenland culture The cell in our coil And a solarist Rome Dying here and then- We are gone from random And Greenland sees a poem To bright horn laity and called The messiness of craft For Sultans be We are, in effect, of Greenland Our people own and birds of flight The engine room of Rhodes Six in calibre and shot straight We beckon to the stars And going alone, see space And thanking Denmark our treasurer Better days ahead Better yet, Sovereign, And we will feed our few.