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On his mountain Lord sits an old grey bearded ancient hermit Sadly staring at the caption in the San Mateo Times It reads today the prophets all agree that California Is to be swallowed in the twinkling of an eye He goes thumbing through his growing stack Of half unfinished rhymes Til he finds the one he'd once submitted to the New York Times They just laughed at him And said you senile wino drunk old fool!

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