I see you boys of summer in your ruin.
Man in his maggot's barren.
And boys are full and foreign to the pouch.
I am the man your father was.
We are the sons of flint and pitch.
O see the poles are kissing as they cross.
I don't really know what any of that means but I really like the sound of the lines.
I am the man your father was. We are the sons of flint and pitch.
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