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When I was A young goose My father Took my out to the pond To see a marching flock He said son when You grow up, Would you be The savior of the geese The hunted and the damned? He said will you defeat them You deanmons And all the non believers The honks that they have made. Because one day, I'll leave you A gooseling To lead you in the springtime To join the Black Migration!
