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you should not have come
Folder:
Time hurries on i would, gladly,
sell
my soul
to the little earbiting devil
to him with his mercury saliva-
he is killing me drop
by
drop.
ah, faustus.
but i'll use my ill-gotten gains
greedy as a fox for eggs
i'll drink him dry, my devil,
and exact my
revenge.
oh, churl!
you forgot we're wicked,
too.
