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Babbling on inside my book, 
babbling on, like a brook.
Until someone takes a look,
at all the babble in my book.
All the time that I have spent,
never making a single cent.
And now I'm behind, on my rent,
because of all the time that I have spent.
So on and on the words do come,
but where are they all comming from?
This may seem real odd to some,
But those are the words that decided to come.