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On the edge of a laughing teacupDid Kubla Kat decreeThe the corn fritter festooned with medalsShall make the brownies freeAnd so the walls turned to waterTo let our sorrows drownAs the chairs burned themselves for warmthSo they need not face the clownThen the spoons burst into songAnd all the forks they understoodAs I stared at my talking clawsBecasue this catnip is just that good
