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Played for brinksmanship
I am the other
And surely thinking war
Why one of this
And the inhospitality
Fragrances and then
A riddance to the few
And off to random Arnold
It sinks as they would
A capital of fear
From the border czar and first
Especially dissipated
We are last on bookings
And soviet prayer
From that uncle Scotsman
So victory by far
To the East and oriental
We accustom those to dark
And plain and simple; and autoplay
It serves to see as well
That we are free to be as us
In a fitness of our Heaven-
To be this spectrance able
And a charge for Greenland culture
The cell in our coil
And a solarist Rome
Dying here and then-
We are gone from random
And Greenland sees a poem
To bright horn laity and called
The messiness of craft
For Sultans be
We are, in effect, of Greenland
Our people own and birds of flight
The engine room of Rhodes
Six in calibre and shot straight
We beckon to the stars
And going alone, see space
And thanking Denmark our treasurer
Better days ahead
Better yet,
Sovereign,
And we will feed our few.