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20 outubro 2009 

Um poeminha lamacento para o dia em que o Inverno me chegou à porta

MUD, MUD, MUD

Mud, mud, mud. What a glorious thing is mud!
Mud, mud, mud. What a wonderful thing is mud!

It sticks and stacks, it squeezes through cracks,
Between your toes goes mud.
It plops and drops, and oozes and goozes,
Thick or thin it's Mud!

Mud, mud, mud. What a glorious thing is mud!
Mud, mud, mud. What a wonderful thing is mud!

It's mud pie, in your eye,
The cake it makes are grand.
It covers your feet, it covers your face,
Stir it with both hands.

Mud, mud, mud. What a glorious thing is mud!
Mud, mud, mud. What a wonderful thing is mud!

Up to your elbows, up to your knees,
It slips and slops around.
It's easy to make a chocolate cake,
Take water and add some ground!

Mud, mud, mud. What a glorious thing is mud
Mud, mud, mud. What a wonderful thing is mud!

Mud, they say, has a way
Of changing clean to dirt.
But after all, you tell them all,
What can a little dirt hurt?

Mud, mud, mud. What a glorious thing is mud!
Mud, mud, mud. What a wonderful thing is mud!


(Francis D. Hole)
__________

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