Shownotes
It's a professor thing you wouldn't understand
Strange that a subject to some foreign land
Some sign of an ancient crowd old broidery
Which seemed like some large riddle of some vine,
Filled the slim sweet with a secret of rain.
The wind could sing and every bird could birth,
When that a song might bend some strange majesty.
Wild, like a heart upon a harmony,
Making this song with thy strange device call.
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