Town folks, at my door gather.
Man called lord, people be happy!
Dirty indoor, outside the bather.
Join the queue, now be snappy.

Bricks face the harsh weathers,
Babies coo indifferently over milk;
Roof better not lose its feathers,
Else the doom of silver silk.

Money is time’s friend,
Time is money’s mother;
Money happens, agonies bend;
Time happens, comforts smother.

Lord eBay, what can I do?
Sister, just be persistent.
Alas, eBay cries too.
Up, but in social confinement.

– Lord eBay

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