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And of Thanksgiving, it was There were demons and a time of war And Christ bled for every change As Saturn turned to the moon And there was English And one weapon of eagerness- The pony, Which burned for a hundred thousand And in a lunar forest, Such as the way we were riding Back to the Inverary platoon And outstanding as quickly off A new poor had risen To become the yesteryear Of the way we became for our offering, Which was the tide of country, And because we change the planet, For Moncton and its example There were Indigenous people of a single chart Whose character was known in Expressen While we spoke of Tobermory, And the six wooden shoes, As our best heal between winters For the Dawnland of Wabenaki French And Twin Rivers sold off to our men For noted breath of the firestone, And the lynx, Our great cousin, So that the Bible would ruin no-one forever And our forgot was the penny Whose ideal rhyme was all sold out For six hours of war So Tunney’s dismay was a child But come the Saviour, To ruin all notice and shower of war, On a sudden planet called mine, And it was a banana, And it sold for a day of dancing, So that- Please do not exit yet; I gave you an earth to marry Which you did notice was proper Til you defied the utensil as an honest upbutton For Clarence who spoke of the against, Against the beast No laughing Apollo Be that may, I was a cousin of yours And I was happy for a towel And a rehearsal of shrapnel So that we would remain in a year While sudden gains for the Handon Who read all our fears And helped As we should Should the Germans connect: So be it They are proud of only now And bless each day with green And hated the dirt of oil And 666 And Armageddon And Iran And everything between that proposed That children are nothing but victims And a proper steer for Mom Which was all I wanted For my needle Which was gone Eleven inches And proper to the mouth As dispolite and to the point of my mouth And expressly showing our totem To the question of whose wither So to be gay And much corporate And in Christ And a good cider Better than honey And fruit of the vine To be lucky to be here Overjoyed for both Pete and Communion And the corporataire Against invega and the shawl Why I, communism Had a hard hat And the CIA to thank for me So let’s get rid of privacy And be all lucky Or men Or not And be free

It is a tablet And as sure as the failed landing I was a leader And sucked at landing For Armageddon to our Lord To the promised land Which only wanted Lent And a UI Such as Purple By Rothesay to the right So we cut up our stacks And longed the way out- Last year (Liberal Government) Knew the media and the west Would see each land’s hour As a sovereign icicle For just repent There was no CIA It was Monday And just return to the rule Of love one another And use your computer, You lucky duck Communism doesn’t apologize And it doesn’t work As I do, As your best friend, The Pony Express

May no man cede to kim jong un