more in my previous post's vein:
Mary had a little lamb she loved in childish fashion,
When winter came, then hunger saw her scoff it with a passion.
As we went round the mulberry bush so early in the morning,
We should have seen insanity, the signs of, come forewarning.
When Gloucester-bound Doc Foster went a-paddling in a puddle,
His patients deemed him past his best, they thought his mind a muddle.
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