Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Old Bold Cold

The old bold cold
With his neck all enfold
With a scarf made of wool
To tuck away his chill
He never does as he's told
The only thing he's ever sold
Is the old bold cold.

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After a busy day when confronting admin

 We must all come  Find ourselves And we will all be found Regardless  As the sun finds the morning As breath finds the lungs As I am found ...