And thus the story had begun,
For he is still quite young,
Desiring to look into the horizon,
Carefree, gulping his daily poison,
Highlander in the loose,
Carrying his basket of blues,
Wishing to wander into alien lands,
And holding on to random hands,
He masters the art of fancy ardour,
In the name of the Holy Father,
Never has he dived into...
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