Friday, April 3, 2009
Never do things of the religion be insane,
Input is the key, the shame of the aeroplane.
Heaven is forcing us to the sun,
Just about your image of the bun,
To eat, to keep, to learn and be stern,
Just like easy work and what is to burn.
We strictly learn, easily and eagerly in the ear,
Like forms of justice, and entering the year.