I'm getting the hell out of dodge!
How about I drive you there?
No! I'm serious!
Who is he?
A hot-jig that can't be puck with.
I will puck him up!
Only if apples were orange...
Then be gone!
I shall!
You should!
I'm past you already.
Either you're delirious...
Or, I'm not.
We will see about that.
If we had time, we would.
No time can't stop this.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem