Right me astir re,
Den I’ll reed it write a weigh,
Or I’ll keep it write bees hide me,
To reed an utter day.
Ewe can tell me tall tails,
Shore to entrance me,
And oil put them sum ware,
That every won can sea.
Reeding is a pass shun,
But righting eye a door,
When I right anode for ewe,
Yule jest bee wanting moor.
Now if ewe founded hard to reed,
It’s bee cause eye maid it sew,
My intent shun was to make ewes mile,
And eye bet eyed id ewe no.
Comments are closed.