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Fish | ||
| Forty fish are in the net, Flapping fins and dripping wet. They are mad that they've been caught. They were doing what they ought. Though they shake as best they can, They will wind up in a pan. Then they'll go on someone's plate. What a tragic fishy fate! Had they moved or overslept, They'd escape the nasty net. Maybe it was meant to be. That's what happens in the sea. | ||
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