The secret is to bang the rocks together, guys.
Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day
To seek the pale enchanted gold
The dwarves of yore made mighty spells
While hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Scenes from a Morning Commute
Red morning, sailors warning. And now, it's snowing to beat the band. Those darn sailors.
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