Oh, hey, away from the feeder we shall stay and, as well, if we may, each of us—Jay and A.J.—do wray the drey’s stray, who brought a foray of play upon our tray snapped to seed bay, whence there is, now, no say for a fair way—only implied fray with cray grey. So, today, we lay selves where each sun ray and every tweet re may meet to make it all okay—some place aligned between dismay and gay. ; )
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