Of great-great-grandpapa, I know,
My parents speak with pride;
But what he did to make him so
I never can decide.
Perhaps, as sweet potatoes do,
'Twas under ground so great he grew.
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I find this a bit disturbing and digusting but at the same moment humorous because the thought actually is there. Perhaps I am perturbing too .. oh yeah, I am. Well, I'm not all then.
A good piece that Father Tabb has written here.
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