1816, by ill haven
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Winter passes by
And never leaveth
Why ask all the little children,
Why?
Bitter cold
To little noses cleaveth
And all the little children
Start to die
Because it is the Year Without Summer
The End of the End
Death is not an acquaintance
He has become a friend |
Posted: 2005-10-05 00:03:28 UTC |
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2005-09-21 13:37:27 | Anthonysheets |
Very nice man. Much better without the screwed formatting :P |
2010-07-03 17:58:19 | baya |
nice! im trying to think why its called 1816 . . . it has to be a year. |