| Imagine if you will Herr Proctor, alias a nobleman, son of son of scion
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| Scion. |
| Part of his rich inheritance, parcel in generous
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| Forklift beam. |
| Certain plots of land and living quarters deemed by all
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| Gentlemen, and wives thereof, to be grossly humane and frankly, quite
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| I’m tryin', I’m tryin'…
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| Herr Proctor, in his enviable good taste, tries quick escape gambit via local
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| Periodicals, but no takers. |
| The land was stationed in a conduit
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| Between two cells, a veritable no-man's-land, [rain, the flophouse, cog-
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| Bone terrors] and carbon monoxide wallpaper. |
| All
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| Boys ask: is it livable?
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| I’m tryin', I’m tryin'…
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| Unable to bear the scandal, Ray, philanthropist, rents low-down scab
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| House in conduit, Herr Proctor offers said land for a song, but no one
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| Wants to sing. |
| In an attempt to maintain social privileges, yet mask it as
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| Goodwill, he says to the conduit members, 'Take this rotten old tree and
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| Make it bear fruit."Cheers erupted throughout the settlement. An
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| Italian male was heard to say, «between here and there is better than
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| Anything over there!» |