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Songs of Fairly Utter Despair VI
Of all the idiots that abound
Above, beneath, and on the ground.
The blinking squirrel is to me
The deepest-sunk in idiocy —
He builds himself a catacomb
Among the worms, and calls it home,
And there he cowers, sore afraid
Of bird and beast and man and maid,
And when, at last, he leaves his rut,
His goal is just another nut.