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‘Twas the hunt before ChristmasAnd all through the marsh,not a mallard was flying,the cold it was harsh.When up through the clouds there appeareda great flight.A sled and some reindeer,we had no tag in sight.And down from the sleigh the old guy did cry,“There’s three coming in from the dark, dreary
Last updated on May 03, 23
Posted on Dec 23, 21
2 min read