How happy I once was with the wind in my hair
Wandering o'er the moors without a care in the world,
In the sweet innocent days of platonic love.
But all good and true things come to a close
And my dearly beloved lies mouldering in her grave.
Yet still the moors of my homeland live on timelessly
In the warm memories of my poor broken heart.
But a new lady love has entered my lonely life;
Verily, she has the most enormous pair of tits
And a firm, well-disinfected butt to totally die for.
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