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BY MARK TWAIN These annual bills! these annual bills! How many a song their discord trills Of “truck” consumed, enjoyed, forgot, Since I was skinned by last year’s lot! Those joyous beans are passed away; Those onions blithe, O where are they? Once loved, lost, mourned — now vexing ILLS Your shades troop back in annual bills! And so ‘twill be when I’m aground These yearly duns will still go round, While other bards, with frantic quills, Shall damn and damn these annual bills! |