Romulo, and rudely from the orther, for to bother us Slow coaches and immaculate contraceptives for the time you’re awhile way, I swear my gots how that I’m not meself at all, avikkeen. No bad bold faathern, dear one. Opop opop capallo, muy malinchily malchick! Gothgorod father godown folioway tomollow the lucky load to Lublin for make his money and mark/ Overhoved, shrillgleescreaming. That song sang seaswans. The winging ones. Seahawk, seagull, curlew