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Andy and George were two young boys Stuck in a class with no toys. Bored and ready to go The time was ticking way too slow. Reaching across the aisle for a tap. Hit poor Andy under the shin cap.
There once were three mice Summers, Simon and Tice And all day long, they would hunt for quail Through fog and rain, snow and hail. In a straight line, they marched as one Up and down the marshy run