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A
pug’s your friend for always,
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Through
cloudy days or fine; |
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They’ll
lie stretched out besides you, |
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And
curly tail untwine. |
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Perhaps
your world’s gone haywire, |
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And
things seems far from fair; |
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To
them it matters little, |
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So
long as you are there. |
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This
choppy bundle’s waiting, |
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In
failure or success, |
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And
from there warmth of welcome, |
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Great
wealth you can possess. |
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They
are one of life’s great treasures, |
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Whose
value is untold, |
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For
every pug is minted, |
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From
fine and purest gold. |
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