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Kick-Ass

Cast: Nicolas Cage, Mark Strong, Aaron Johnson, Chloe Moretz, Christopher Mintz-Plasse

trailer for Kick-Ass, directed by Matthew Vaughn, screenplay, inspired by Mark Millar (2010)Report problemRelated quotes
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Handles Bermuda

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Luggage Canada

b ean bag stoer
bed liner motorcycle bags
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Thurso’s Landing

I
The coast-road was being straightened and repaired again,
A group of men labored at the steep curve
Where it falls from the north to Mill Creek. They scattered and hid
Behind cut banks, except one blond young man
Who stooped over the rock and strolled away smiling
As if he shared a secret joke with the dynamite;
It waited until he had passed back of a boulder,
Then split its rock cage; a yellowish torrent
Of fragments rose up the air and the echoes bumped
From mountain to mountain. The men returned slowly
And took up their dropped tools, while a banner of dust
Waved over the gorge on the northwest wind, very high
Above the heads of the forest.
Some distance west of the road,
On the promontory above the triangle
Of glittering ocean that fills the gorge-mouth,
A woman and a lame man from the farm below
Had been watching, and turned to go down the hill. The young
woman looked back,
Widening her violet eyes under the shade of her hand. 'I think
they'll blast again in a minute.'
And the man: 'I wish they'd let the poor old road be. I don't
like improvements.' 'Why not?' 'They bring in the world;
We're well without it.' His lameness gave him some look of age
but he was young too; tall and thin-faced,
With a high wavering nose. 'Isn't he amusing,' she said, 'that
boy Rick Armstrong, the dynamite man,
How slowly he walks away after he lights the fuse. He loves to
show off. Reave likes him, too,'
She added; and they clambered down the path in the rock-face,
little dark specks
Between the great headland rock and the bright blue sea.

II
The road-workers had made their camp
North of this headland, where the sea-cliff was broken down and
sloped to a cove. The violet-eyed woman's husband,
Reave Thurso, rode down the slope to the camp in the gorgeous
autumn sundown, his hired man Johnny Luna
Riding behind him. The road-men had just quit work and four
or five were bathing in the purple surf-edge,
The others talked by the tents; blue smoke fragrant with food
and oak-wood drifted from the cabin stove-pipe
And slowly went fainting up the vast hill.
Thurso drew rein by
a group of men at a tent door
And frowned at them without speaking, square-shouldered and
heavy-jawed, too heavy with strength for so young a man,
He chose one of the men with his eyes. 'You're Danny Woodruff,

[...] Read more

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Byron

Canto the Eighth

I
Oh blood and thunder! and oh blood and wounds!
These are but vulgar oaths, as you may deem,
Too gentle reader! and most shocking sounds:
And so they are; yet thus is Glory's dream
Unriddled, and as my true Muse expounds
At present such things, since they are her theme,
So be they her inspirers! Call them Mars,
Bellona, what you will -- they mean but wars.

II
All was prepared -- the fire, the sword, the men
To wield them in their terrible array.
The army, like a lion from his den,
March'd forth with nerve and sinews bent to slay, --
A human Hydra, issuing from its fen
To breathe destruction on its winding way,
Whose heads were heroes, which cut off in vain
Immediately in others grew again.

III
History can only take things in the gross;
But could we know them in detail, perchance
In balancing the profit and the loss,
War's merit it by no means might enhance,
To waste so much gold for a little dross,
As hath been done, mere conquest to advance.
The drying up a single tear has more
Of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore.

IV
And why? -- because it brings self-approbation;
Whereas the other, after all its glare,
Shouts, bridges, arches, pensions from a nation,
Which (it may be) has not much left to spare,
A higher title, or a loftier station,
Though they may make Corruption gape or stare,
Yet, in the end, except in Freedom's battles,
Are nothing but a child of Murder's rattles.

V
And such they are -- and such they will be found:
Not so Leonidas and Washington,
Whose every battle-field is holy ground,
Which breathes of nations saved, not worlds undone.
How sweetly on the ear such echoes sound!
While the mere victor's may appal or stun
The servile and the vain, such names will be
A watchword till the future shall be free.

[...] Read more

poem by from Don Juan (1824)Report problemRelated quotes
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Christopher, Mr. Christopher

Written by dennis deyoung
Lead vocals by dennis deyoung
I remember christopher
Such a man
So brave and tall
He took the baby jesus
In his arms
Across the waterfall
People cried, "he's holy!
He's a saint not a man!"
All at once it was written
In the book of the land
Christopher, mr. christopher
Why won't they leave you alone?
Christopher, mr. christopher
Why won't they leave you alone?
There was mary margaret
A christian lady
Dressed in black
She believed st. christopher
Helped her find
A way back
She told him all her secrets
And the dreams of her years
So when they took that saint away
All that's left were her tears
Mary cried "they're crazy!
The world is changing too fast!"
It was then she discovered
That her faith couldn't last
Christopher, mr. christopher
Why won't they leave you alone?
Christopher, mr. christopher
Why won't they leave you alone?
Christopher, mr. christopher
Why won't they leave you alone?
Christopher, mr. christopher
Why won't they leave you alone?

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Come Dance with Me - Parody Christopher Marlowe - Come Live with Me and be My Love

Come dance with me and find release,
howl to the moon, with wild wolves run,
no nightmares now as heart finds peace, -
a stellar future crowned with fun
shall underwrite harvest increase
two reap together, story spun
from morn to night as worries cease,
while one and one at last make one.

Come dance we'll circumnavigate
the seven seas as zephyr’s breeze
anticipates and may translate
past cares to luck which soul strings frees.
Harp, Terpsichore shall play as Fate
unwinds past phantom_mime banshees,
life’s letter stamps ‘reciprocate’
inventing new realities.

Come dance with me, unlearn life’s woe
owe only to your inner voice
as chivalry and honour flow -
no need to justify your choice.
Slow motion – Time stood still – will throw
away wait’s weights as both rejoice
in unexpected overthrow
of anchors as trim sails we hoist.

Come dance with me, no strings attached –
except of harp or violin -
devotion, eloquence unmatched,
will shed all lies of ties that sin.
Thus inner doors may be unlatched,
as new dimensions open in
embracing wave which saves unscratched
soul stirred from hibernation’s bin.


Come dance with me, endearing smile
will echo caring, sharing, joy,
while Lara’s theme will reconcile
true love to trust, no wiles employ.
Tiara crowned Princess no guile
may meet who, sweet, greets verse employ
as an expression timed to dial
away Time’s hands all else destroy.

Come dance with me, no judgment blind
will claim, will, blame, will shame, reject, -
all icicles soon left behind
Spring’s robin sings you’re soul elect.

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Kick Ass [trailer 2]

Cast: Nicolas Cage, Aaron Johnson, Chloe Moretz, Mark Strong, Christopher Mintz-Plasse

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Johnson’s Antidote

Down along the Snakebite River, where the overlanders camp,
Where the serpents are in millions, all of the most deadly stamp;
Where the station-cook in terror, nearly every time he bakes,
Mixes up among the doughboys half-a-dozen poison-snakes:
Where the wily free-selector walks in armour-plated pants,
And defies the stings of scorpions, and the bites of bull-dog ants:
Where the adder and the viper tear each other by the throat,—
There it was that William Johnson sought his snake-bite antidote.
Johnson was a free-selector, and his brain went rather queer,
For the constant sight of serpents filled him with a deadly fear;
So he tramped his free-selection, morning, afternoon, and night,
Seeking for some great specific that would cure the serpent’s bite.
Till King Billy, of the Mooki, chieftain of the flour-bag head,
Told him, “Spos’n snake bite pfeller, pfeller mostly drop down dead;
Spos’n snake bite old goanna, then you watch a while you see,
Old goanna cure himself with eating little pfeller tree.”
“That’s the cure,” said William Johnson, “point me out this plant sublime,”
But King Billy, feeling lazy, said he’d go another time.
Thus it came to pass that Johnson, having got the tale by rote,
Followed every stray goanna, seeking for the antidote.


. . . . .
Loafing once beside the river, while he thought his heart would break,
There he saw a big goanna fighting with a tiger-snake,
In and out they rolled and wriggled, bit each other, heart and soul,
Till the valiant old goanna swallowed his opponent whole.
Breathless, Johnson sat and watched him, saw him struggle up the bank,
Saw him nibbling at the branches of some bushes, green and rank;
Saw him, happy and contented, lick his lips, as off he crept,
While the bulging in his stomach showed where his opponent slept.
Then a cheer of exultation burst aloud from Johnson’s throat;
“Luck at last,” said he, “I’ve struck it! ’tis the famous antidote.

“Here it is, the Grand Elixir, greatest blessing ever known,—
Twenty thousand men in India die each year of snakes alone.
Think of all the foreign nations, negro, chow, and blackamoor,
Saved from sudden expiration, by my wondrous snakebite cure.
It will bring me fame and fortune! In the happy days to be,
Men of every clime and nation will be round to gaze on me—
Scientific men in thousands, men of mark and men of note,
Rushing down the Mooki River, after Johnson’s antidote.
It will cure delirium tremens, when the patient’s eyeballs stare
At imaginary spiders, snakes which really are not there.
When he thinks he sees them wriggle, when he thinks he sees them bloat,
It will cure him just to think of Johnson’s Snakebite Antidote.”

Then he rushed to the museum, found a scientific man—
“Trot me out a deadly serpent, just the deadliest you can;
I intend to let him bite me, all the risk I will endure,

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Aunt Chloe

.
I remember, well remember,
.
That dark and dreadful day,
.
When they whispered to me, "Chloe,
.
Your children's sold away!" 1.
It seemed as if a bullet
.
Had shot me through and through,
.
And I felt as if my heart-strings
.
Was breaking right in two. 1.
And I says to cousin Milly,
.

"There must be some mistake;
.

Where's Mistus?" "In the great house crying --
.

Crying like her heart would break. 1.

"And the lawyer's there with Mistus;
.

Says he's come to 'ministrate,
.

'Cause when master died he just left
.

Heap of debt on the estate. 1.

"And I thought 'twould do you good
.

To bid your boys good-bye --
.

To kiss them both and shake their hands,
.

And have a hearty cry. 1.

"Oh! Chloe, I knows how you feel,
.

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Alexander Pope

EPISTLE II: TO A LADY (Of the Characters of Women )

NOTHING so true as what you once let fall,
"Most Women have no Characters at all."
Matter too soft a lasting mark to bear,
And best distinguish'd by black, brown, or fair.

How many pictures of one Nymph we view,
All how unlike each other, all how true!
Arcadia's Countess, here, in ermin'd pride,
Is, there, Pastora by a fountain side.
Here Fannia, leering on her own good man,
And there, a naked Leda with a Swan.
Let then the Fair one beautifully cry,
In Magdalen's loose hair and lifted eye,
Or drest in smiles of sweet Cecilia shine,
With simpering Angels, Palms, and Harps divine;
Whether the Charmer sinner it, or saint it,
If Folly grow romantic, I must paint it.

Come then, the colours and the ground prepare!
Dip in the Rainbow, trick her off in Air;
Choose a firm Cloud, before it fall, and in it
Catch, ere she change, the Cynthia of this minute.

Rufa, whose eye quick-glancing o'er the Park,
Attracts each light gay meteor of a Spark,
Agrees as ill with Rufa studying Locke,
As Sappho's diamonds with her dirty smock;
Or Sappho at her toilet's greasy task,
With Sappho fragrant at an evening Masque:
So morning Insects that in muck begun,
Shine, buzz, and flyblow in the setting sun.

How soft is Silia! fearful to offend;
The Frail one's advocate, the Weak one's friend:
To her, Calista prov'd her conduct nice;
And good Simplicius asks of her advice.
Sudden, she storms! she raves! You tip the wink,
But spare your censure; Silia does not drink.
All eyes may see from what the change arose,
All eyes may see--a Pimple on her nose.

Papillia, wedded to her amorous spark,
Sighs for the shades--"How charming is a Park!"
A Park is purchas'd, but the Fair he sees
All bath'd in tears--"Oh odious, odious Trees!"

Ladies, like variegated Tulips, show;
'Tis to their Changes half their charms we owe;
Fine by defect, and delicately weak,
Their happy Spots the nice admirer take,

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Warm & Tender

(olivia newton-john/john farrar)
Warm and tender is my prayer for your world
That I surrender to my girl
All my life Ive waited for the angel you are
Youre the dream that I knew youd be
And I love you completely my chloe/chloe
Warm and tender--i will color your days
With smiles and friends along the way
From the silver morning
To the blue velvet night
Through it all you can count on me
And I love you completely my chloe/chloe
Ill make you a world to grow in
Where you will be safe and free
Ill save you a greener world
Where you can be
Warm and tender you will heal all the world
Your touch can mend a mothers heart
Everyday Im thankful for the blessing you are
Youre the future, the hope we need
And I love you completely my chloe/chloe/chloe/chloe

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Warm And Tender

Warm and tender is my prayer for your world, that I surrender to my girl
All my life I've waited for the angel you are
You're the dream that I knew you'd be
And I love you completely my Chloe, Chloe
Warm and tender, I will color your days, with smiles and friends along the way
From the silver morning to the blue velvet night
Through it all you can count on me
And I love you completely my Chloe, Chloe
I'll make you a world to grow in, where you will be safe and free
I'll save you a greener world, where you can be
Warm and tender you will heal all the world
Your touch can mend a mother's heart
Everyday I'm thankful for the blessing you are
You're the future, the hope we need
And I love you completely my Chloe, Chloe, Chloe, Chloe
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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Idylls of the King: The Last Tournament (excerpt)

Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain in his mood
Had made mock-knight of Arthur's Table Round,
At Camelot, high above the yellowing woods,
Danced like a wither'd leaf before the hall.
And toward him from the hall, with harp in hand,
And from the crown thereof a carcanet
Of ruby swaying to and fro, the prize
Of Tristram in the jousts of yesterday,
Came Tristram, saying, "Why skip ye so, Sir Fool?"

For Arthur and Sir Lancelot riding once
Far down beneath a winding wall of rock
Heard a child wail. A stump of oak half-dead.
From roots like some black coil of carven snakes,
Clutch'd at the crag, and started thro' mid air
Bearing an eagle's nest: and thro' the tree
Rush'd ever a rainy wind, and thro' the wind
Pierced ever a child's cry: and crag and tree
Scaling, Sir Lancelot from the perilous nest,
This ruby necklace thrice around her neck,
And all unscarr'd from beak or talon, brought
A maiden babe; which Arthur pitying took,
Then gave it to his Queen to rear: the Queen
But coldly acquiescing, in her white arms
Received, and after loved it tenderly,
And named it Nestling; so forgot herself
A moment, and her cares; till that young life
Being smitten in mid heaven with mortal cold
Past from her; and in time the carcanet
Vext her with plaintive memories of the child:
So she, delivering it to Arthur, said,
"Take thou the jewels of this dead innocence,
And make them, an thou wilt, a tourney-prize."

To whom the King, "Peace to thine eagle-borne
Dead nestling, and this honour after death,
Following thy will! but, O my Queen, I muse
Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone
Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarn,
And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear."

"Would rather you had let them fall," she cried,
"Plunge and be lost--ill-fated as they were,
A bitterness to me!--ye look amazed,
Not knowing they were lost as soon as given--
Slid from my hands, when I was leaning out
Above the river--that unhappy child
Past in her barge: but rosier luck will go
With these rich jewels, seeing that they came
Not from the skeleton of a brother-slayer,

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The Last Tournament

Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain in his mood
Had made mock-knight of Arthur's Table Round,
At Camelot, high above the yellowing woods,
Danced like a withered leaf before the hall.
And toward him from the hall, with harp in hand,
And from the crown thereof a carcanet
Of ruby swaying to and fro, the prize
Of Tristram in the jousts of yesterday,
Came Tristram, saying, `Why skip ye so, Sir Fool?'

For Arthur and Sir Lancelot riding once
Far down beneath a winding wall of rock
Heard a child wail. A stump of oak half-dead,
From roots like some black coil of carven snakes,
Clutched at the crag, and started through mid air
Bearing an eagle's nest: and through the tree
Rushed ever a rainy wind, and through the wind
Pierced ever a child's cry: and crag and tree
Scaling, Sir Lancelot from the perilous nest,
This ruby necklace thrice around her neck,
And all unscarred from beak or talon, brought
A maiden babe; which Arthur pitying took,
Then gave it to his Queen to rear: the Queen
But coldly acquiescing, in her white arms
Received, and after loved it tenderly,
And named it Nestling; so forgot herself
A moment, and her cares; till that young life
Being smitten in mid heaven with mortal cold
Past from her; and in time the carcanet
Vext her with plaintive memories of the child:
So she, delivering it to Arthur, said,
`Take thou the jewels of this dead innocence,
And make them, an thou wilt, a tourney-prize.'

To whom the King, `Peace to thine eagle-borne
Dead nestling, and this honour after death,
Following thy will! but, O my Queen, I muse
Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone
Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarn,
And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear.'

`Would rather you had let them fall,' she cried,
`Plunge and be lost-ill-fated as they were,
A bitterness to me!-ye look amazed,
Not knowing they were lost as soon as given-
Slid from my hands, when I was leaning out
Above the river-that unhappy child
Past in her barge: but rosier luck will go
With these rich jewels, seeing that they came
Not from the skeleton of a brother-slayer,

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Kick-Ass 2

Cast: Chloe Grace Moretz, Jim Carrey, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Lyndsy Fonseca, Christopher Mintz-Plasse, Clark Duke, John Leguizamo, Lindy Booth

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Johnson, alias Crow

Where the seasons are divided and the bush begins to change,
and the links are rather broken in the Great Dividing Range;
where the atmosphere is hazy underneath the summer sky,
lies the little town of Eton, rather westward of Mackay.
Near the township, in the graveyard, where the dead of Eton go,
lies the body of a sinner known as “Johnson alias Crow”.
He was sixty-four was Johnson, and in other days, lang syne,
was apprenticed to a ship-wright in the land across the Rhine;
but, whatever were his prospects in the days of long ago,
things went very bad with Johnson—Heinrich Johnson (alias Crow).
He, at Eton—where he drifted in his age, a stranded wreck—
got three pounds by false pretences, in connection with a cheque.
But he didn’t long enjoy it, the police soon got to know;
and the lockup closed on Johnson, lonely Johnson alias Crow.
Friday night, and Crow retired, feeling, as he said, unwell;
and the warder heard the falling of a body in the cell.
Going in, the warder saw him bent with pain and crouching low—
Death had laid his hand on Johnson, Heinrich Johnson, alias Crow.
Then the constable bent o’er him—asked him where he felt the pain. Johnson only said, “I’m dying”—and he never spoke again.
They had waited for a witness, and the local people say
Johnson’s trial would have ended on that very Saturday;
but he took his case for judgment where our cases all must go,
and the higher court is trying Heinrich Johnson (alias Crow).

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Dr Samuel Johnson's Dictionary Masterpiece

June 1746 deeply dissatisfied
with the dictionaries of the period
London booksellers contracted

Dr Samuel Johnson to write
'A Dictionary of the English Language'
15 April 1755 finally published.

Johnson took nine years to create
an authoritative dictionary of the English language
could finish in three years he claimed?

Preposterous Académie Française employed;
in comparison over forty learned scholars
spending needing forty years to complete;


its dictionary in the French language.
Forty Frenchmen times forty years
is not nine but 1600 years to complete.

Miracle miracle Johnson 1591 years defeats.
For what princely sum did Johnson contract
with William Strahan and printer associates;

a preeminent Dictionary in English to complete?
18 June 1746 in historic morning was signed
a project prestigious contact worth 1,500 guineas?

This sum of 1,500 guineas is
in pounds £1,575 equivalent
in 2012 to about £230,000.


A consortium of London's most
successful printers including Robert
Dodsley, Thomas Longman, would

finance a dictionary none could afford;
on such scale to undertake alone, thus was
contracted to be; a meticulous feat of legend.

Twas said 'the world contemplated
with wonder so stupendous a work achieved
by one man, while other countries

had thought such undertakings
fit only for whole academies'.'
OED took writers 70 years to complete.

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The Hall Of Justice

Part I

VAGRANT.

Take, take away thy barbarous hand,
And let me to thy Master speak;
Remit awhile the harsh command,
And hear me, or my heart will break.

MAGISTRATE.

Fond wretch! and what canst thou relate,
But deeds of sorrow, shame, and sin?
Thy crime is proved, thou know'st thy fate;
But come, thy tale!--begin, begin! -

VAGRANT.

My crime!--This sick'ning child to feed.
I seized the food, your witness saw;
I knew your laws forbade the deed,
But yielded to a stronger law.

Know'st thou, to Nature's great command
All human laws are frail and weak?
Nay! frown not--stay his eager hand,
And hear me, or my heart will break.

In this, th' adopted babe I hold
With anxious fondness to my breast,
My heart's sole comfort I behold,
More dear than life, when life was blest;
I saw her pining, fainting, cold,
I begg'd--but vain was my request.

I saw the tempting food, and seized -
My infant-sufferer found relief;
And in the pilfer'd treasure pleased,
Smiled on my guilt, and hush'd my grief.

But I have griefs of other kind,
Troubles and sorrows more severe;
Give me to ease my tortured mind,
Lend to my woes a patient ear;
And let me--if I may not find
A friend to help--find one to hear.

Yet nameless let me plead--my name
Would only wake the cry of scorn;
A child of sin, conceived in shame,

[...] Read more

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Robert Burns

The Charming Month of May

It was the charming month of May,
When all the flow’rs were fresh and gay.
One morning, by the break of day,
The youthful, charming Chloe
From peaceful slumber she arose,
Girt on her mantle and her hose,
And o’er the flow’ry mead she goes—
The youthful, charming Chloe.

Chorus:
Lovely was she by the dawn,
Youthful Chloe, charming Chloe,
Tripping o’er the pearly lawn,
The youthful, charming Chloe.

The feather’d people you might see
Perch’d all around on every tree,
In notes of sweetest melody
They hail the charming Chloe;
Till, painting gay the eastern skies,
The glorious sun began to rise,
Outrival’d by the radiant eyes
Of youthful, charming Chloe.

Chorus

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Christopher Tracey's Parade

Everyone come behold Christopher Tracy's Parade
The show will proceed,
unless it should rain strawberry lemonade
Hopefully, that will not occur;
the man above has been paid
Give what you can,
all you can stand,
and all of your life will be made
Everyone should come and dig
Christopher Tracy's piano
The chord strikes,
the devil no like,
so he runs 2 his evil car
Everyone come behold Christopher Tracy's Parade
Goodness will guide us if love is inside us
Christopher Tracy's Parade (Christopher Tracy's Parade)
Christopher Tracy's Parade (Christopher Tracy's Parade)
Christopher Tracy's Parade

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