User:Wordfa
im fred, see my stuff here
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wormRadio 2
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When the flush of a newborn sun fell first on Eden's green and gold,
Our father Adam sat under the Tree and scratched with a stick in the mold;
And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart,
Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves: "It's Experimental, but is it Art?"