Subject: Re: *squees*
Author:
Posted on: 2008-08-08 20:31:00 UTC

He turned, he spurred to the west!
He did not know who stood,
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket,
Drenched in her own red blood...

I prob'ly have the line breaks wrong, but I can recite it.

Shiny. The harpsochord can be played by my new iguana, because I certainly can't.

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