...weary with folksongs and fain would lie doon. Where's your guitar, Randall my son? Where's your Martin, my handsome young man? I've been trading on Mudcat, mother. I've been trading on Mudcat, mother, Make my bed soon for I'm weary from Mudcat, etc. Why have you a banjo, Randall my son? I brought you up better, my handsome young man! Get out of my house! Mother, don't...ARGH! OUCH! Okay, okay, I'm leaving!
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