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One Warrior there was of old
One mighty strong so grim and bold
A fierce and savage kind of lad
Who fought for good and not for bad
But there was an evil plight
Who's nemesis he could not fight
Thus he spoke what a deserter
His foes would die of shameless laughter
He couldn't tell a proper story of slaying things
Achieving glory, he babbled, spluttered, spat and hissed Because technique of speech he missed
That's how a fighter stout and tall may be
The biggest fool of all

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