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I heard about when Harbal was on holiday once . . . .
He would inevitably nag the host
If they had no marmalade for his toast
Then he'd sob and he'd wail
Till his bread went stale
And curse much louder than most.
I heard about when Harbal was on holiday once . . . .
He would inevitably nag the host
If they had no marmalade for his toast
Then he'd sob and he'd wail
Till his bread went stale
And curse much louder than most.
How thrilling, Mups, you've immortalised me in poetry.