And what are you doing here? I've come for the grub.
I didn't like what they were feeding me.
I ordered trout, but it was all minnow and chub.
Here it's as you wish, served up with Darjeeling tea.
One is stubborn, one is acquiescent…
either way, one gets what one's paid for, so I hear.
And that other place? In fine, it lacked the pleasant.
Here, though, it's all based on the solar year.
The locals are great, but they've got some odd notions.
They seem to think eternity has no egress -
for this reason they've thrown out their tokens.
It's a mystery as to how they were acquired.
When they sing, they sing with a definite bigness -
the diphthongs swell out from where they are choired.
One ponders the finesse with which their dome's been wired.
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