Ur's santurs skirl. One chap (no churl: friends call 'im Burl, the Earl of Twirl) dons skirts o' pearl. Tight folds unfurl to form a curl. Burl twirls; skirts swirl. (‘Twere me...? I’d hurl.)
“’Tis but,” says Merlin, ”psycho-neur’l.” Still, dervish, whirlin' gets the girl -- not urban: rur'l! From Russia (Ur'l)... a gal call'd Shirl. (This blather...? As per Lawrence Durr'll.)
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A Schrödinger's Box Production: "Is He Dead Yet? Yes Or No? We'd Be Glad If 'Yes,' You Know."
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