- Aug 5, 2013
- 967
- 3,745
Not like the sleezy **** of Madrid fame
With no qualm of stealing from hand after hand;
Here at our new built shiny home now stands
A baldy gnome with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and his name
Father of Bastards. From his beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; his mild eyes command
The air-tight purse of nought transfer blame.
“Keep, cruel thiefs, your storied pomp!” cries he
With silent lips. “Give me your Welsh, pronto ad hoc,
Your golfing manbun yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming flock.
Send Him, the bench-ed, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden cock!
With no qualm of stealing from hand after hand;
Here at our new built shiny home now stands
A baldy gnome with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and his name
Father of Bastards. From his beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; his mild eyes command
The air-tight purse of nought transfer blame.
“Keep, cruel thiefs, your storied pomp!” cries he
With silent lips. “Give me your Welsh, pronto ad hoc,
Your golfing manbun yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming flock.
Send Him, the bench-ed, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden cock!
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