Exuberance
Give me those people who will shout,
Sometimes, and wave their arms about;
Folk who will swear, and laugh, and cry,
Nor shape their conduct to another's eye:
How I've grown sick of the Polite
Whose only care is how to do things right!
Sometimes, and wave their arms about;
Folk who will swear, and laugh, and cry,
Nor shape their conduct to another's eye:
How I've grown sick of the Polite
Whose only care is how to do things right!
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