Waifle - Made Good Time
A taste as old as cold water, an epic you told. So long ago a place was set - heir to the throne. The past is won and written down. The truth has come from victory. Big chair fell down, the oak is split, splinters abound. A race for gold, a king's ransom, a random note. An heir, a son, hand me down. The future was known years ago.
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