Mothers are the gardeners Of wind-blown wild flowers. They water them with happy tears, Happy with them many years, Even as the hours Ring with sweet, sad melodies Sighing through their bowers.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Flowers and Gifts
Spammers are what gardeners Use to fert'lise flowers, Above ground they're pollution Wasting many people's hours. So get yourself beneath the ground, you dumb moronic cretin, (This verse is sure a waste of time, you'll read this not, I'm bettin'.)
Tiddy Ogg.
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