My Dearest Hanging Tree

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Twas a tree sat lonely 'pon a shady knoll,
and begged for company to set upon him.
But deary me his calls were held
in so deep a lonely abandon.
Thus days would pass and seasons end
as company did seek his aid
and, joyous he,
he holds aloft their oddly customs, giving heed to no here-say
And soon so many a company
he held in makeshift mangers.
But ye poor ol' hanging tree
all ye hold aloft are strangers.

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