Alas, the world is steeped in doom
And evil, nastiness and gloom.
I trudge each day my weary beat
On my downtrodden grudging feet,
Which, for no reason I can see,
Grow nails that pierce my hosiery
And, lacking better things to do,
Scrape at the inside of my shoe.
Alas, the world is full of pain -
I'm running out of socks again.
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