Todaey's the 31st of Maey
and, just like aeny daey this Maey,
Maey's raeinin' clouds weaer shrouds of claey.
Maey's ocean waeves weaer crowns of spraey
in shaedes of whey, Maey's waey to saey
that Maey remains, clean through todaey,
a month gone graey -- so very graey
that every single sound of /ay/
Maey's spelt with e-augmented a.
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