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Unpoetia logo.jpg Poetry for people who hate poetry
The hills are alive with...
The Sound of Goat

Dough, the stuff that bought my goat.

Ray, the name I gave my goat.

Me, the guy who enjoys my goat.

Far, a long way for a goat.

So, I think I'll goat a goat.

La, la la la la la goat.

Tea? No thanks, I'm having goat.

That will bring us back to goat, goat, goat, goat, goat.