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[i]The Christmas stars are back again,
Orion has resumed his reign,
And Sirius, the brightest light
Is at my window every night.
But foolish man has got his eye
On rubbish rushing round the sky,
On bits of rockets, parts of cones,
And, I suppose, the puppy's bones.
Nor do they seem to know it all,
If rockets fizzle out or fall.
At any moment through the fog,
There may descend a bit of dog.
The moon was beautiful,
They've made it dull,
I much prefer
The other side of Hull.[/i]
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