Spinach! oh so delicious...
ode owed to kitchens, where green groves of fixins
Were the mean bowl, the chief's soul, would clean colons with quickness
One heave ho, you'd leave home- for clean bowls to shit it
I mean, woe is the critic who believes gold is the brisket.
Bitch! We know the green glow means mo'... EAT YO SPINACH!!!
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Ahem.
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