With Guts Poem by Raymond Pampa

Wait until my concept flance
Aboke and till the until dance,
Nick what's fuel oughty swipe
A plain and boke a county rike

Lot of clause to shall thy tust
A billing of the mighty wast;
Fing and bing the road of neat
What long for must and binky not

Sheen on tall and shook on bly
Applause will tell the funky hi,
Dawn and tell me roaky pride
With hast and pleash a summer tie

Took a mile for this trial
A seem thy cast and thunder frail;
Jack the cons and mild whale
But luck will tell with such exhale.