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I used to hunt with this guy
His name was Dallas
He threw a baseball 
Like a old man's phallas

One duck he slayed 
In all of our days
It was not a Greenie
And for that he pays

He's not a slayer
Nor a good payer
of the ducks we hope for
We sing a prayer

When they come in 
We hope we win
To cleanse their sin
And bring them in

Yet at the end
Clider pays in
And will cleanse our sins
For next years wins

GBCH