my god what would i do what would i be reduced to what could possibly save me
simply put i would wither, likened unto the plant with no photosynthesis my hypothesis simple no matter strength nor how nimble, the peasant the paige knight and even king would notfight as they do they could not sing no! all is due to inspiration
easily said i would be durt and dust blown about goverened even by the slightest gust, sure the edge of blade facing fencer is lust does that deter dancer that he may fall no! each with such and such desires call above: fine dress, dekectabke feast, no draught of alcohol is as ever delicious truly delightfully splendid
unequivocally obvious in earnest no solace nor rest would my future see, unfortunately some in said pursuit often do refute the proper strumming of the lute, for if you play well sincere holding not a single queer intention the path is clear, cleared actually by ally for quite in secret and although they cant admit truly it is with help that a king may ever be more than whelp
ROMANCE!