…Something (iii) alpha numeric…

The spices are in the strain
The cans begin to hustle
An emperor penguin has lost it’s clothes
The tunnel begins a rustle

I wish I could double dutch
What’s the recipe
I know it’s always quite the fuss
Just visiting the rectory

Your engine hums, and I backslide.
You’re my greatest pride, and I hide it

It’s in me, but it’s a little further

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