rusted on like!
¶ 1
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‘tis up the millers!
and stuff what other roar!
coz they are our lads.
¶ 2
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we watched ‘em play
on snow white snow
and smog grimy ice.
¶ 3
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we’d see ‘em ghostly like
gliding in & out of sight
thru a pea soup fog.
¶ 4
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and yet! ‘tis up the millers!
we’re rusted on like!
coz they are our lads.
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