He hailed from grey Maine with narry a brain
And awoke each day feeling grumpy
His inclinations were mean
He was never called lean
In fact kids laughed at his rumpy
Early his mornings are started
With a passion so retched, as lead though the "fethid"
Now hell awaits his departed
It's not a sad story
For this nasty Tory
Not a soul will miss his cold hearted
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