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It's... 7:22 in the morning,
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Saturday the 15th of April. It's all over.
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The President is no more.
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Now he belongs to the ages.
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Fondly do we hope, fervently do we pray,
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that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away.
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Yet, if God wills that it continue
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until all the wealth piled by the bondman's
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two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk,
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and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash
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shall be paid by another drawn with the sword,
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as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said