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Haggis, schmaggis
It be steak whut I crave,
N' me cravinz ain't much fer
Humorin' some kilted knave.
So be quick aboudditt wench!
N' 'ave a care wi' yon spit',
Haggis, schmaggis,
I've no love fer itt.
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In life-long pursuit of that most mythic of beasts: the ever-elusive perfect corner. Well . . . that, r' at least a whole lodda clear spin-out room.
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