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'I'm fed up looking like Father Christmas,'Muttered Father Christmas one year.'I need a new outfit. I must move with the times.
He was seven and I was six, my Brendon Gallacher.He was Irish and I was Scottish, my Brendon Gallacher.His father was in prison; he was a cat burglar.
That fire, they said, was red as red as redas red as a fox, your lips, a cherry;that fire, they said spread and spread and spread,faster than a cheetah or a nasty rumour;
His name is called and there's a pause
just long enough to halt a war
tame timber wolves and trim their claws
hide diamonds in a secret drawer
Forest could keep secretsForest could keep secrets
There she was on the news,Miss Goody Two Shoescaught on CCTV.
Don't look so shocked.Of course you know who – who else but Goldilocks!
Little toad little toad mind yourselfmind yourself let me plant my cornplant my corn to feed my horsefeed my horse to run my race – the sea is full of more than I know
He's the Keepy-Uppy Kid.
We're the Mafia catsBugsy, Franco and ToniWe're crazy for pizzaWith hot pepperoni
Spices and gold once cast a spellOn bearded men in caravels.
New World New World cried historyOld World Old World sighed every tree.