I lost my sence of spell
A riteing blok as well
I hear and taste and feel and see but all theese werds make no sence to me
They sowd kine da runny and shapt sorta funny
They leeve me with drie mowth and eyes
The rools of grammer and punk chew way shun make me want to cry
A E I O U arvowls and make the sowds of bow wells
And Y is a constanit that seems kine da in calm pit tent wen it be cums sum thing els
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