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The Plot Unfolds
THE PLOT UNFOLDS
Don’t you worry
Don’t you worry me
Don’t you bury me though
Don’t you bury your head
In some proverbial sand
Don’t you worry
Don’t you worry me
Don’t you bury me though
For neither of us
Is quite so dead just yet
Nor quite alive
Either yet so
Don’t you worry
Don’t you worry me
Don’t you bury me though
Yes, yes, don’t you bury me
‘Cos I ain’t quite dead yet
Free Of Insufficiency: Four By Six
FREE OF INSUFFICIENCY
Worry not my dear friend
For practice makes perfect
Meanwhile further upstairs
All is just as is meant
These Furrowed Brows
THESE FURROWED BROWS
You can spot thinkers
But what preoccupies them
Is it of value?