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By Cleve Sylcox

There was a time,
When the wind blew clean,
No victimless crime,
And words weren’t mean.

There was always time,
To stop and smell the flowers,
Loan a stranger a dime,
And while away the hours.

There seemed to be time,
For just about everything,
Listen to church bells chime,
And to play on the swings.

There was plenty of time,
To walk the countryside,
Wash away the grime,
And to hold my lovely bride.

There is a time,
For all of that,
Sucking limes,
And swinging bats.

Get off your duff,
And put on your hat,
Go out and do stuff,
Life is better like that.

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