When all of them said I was wrong and pointed witheringly at me You sang heard-only-by-me song which dared disagree.
I wouldn't ask and wouldn't moan for help from hands of yours. It would be you, you, all alone, to help without good cause.
A lot will do nothing, Many'll humbug, at the point when you need support, But my hands are constant and peerless fort. Come closer, friend, give me a hug.
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