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Dirt | ||
| Dust and dirt accumulate! 'Tis a never-ending fate. O'er the years your ducts collect More than you could e'er expect. 'Tis an illustration sure That your mind is not so pure. Unclean thoughts can come to stay, Slowly getting in your way. You must well the cobwebs clean So the truth is clearly seen. Pray to God that you can be Dirt-free for eternity. | ||
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