Years ago when I was just a boy, there were things I believed to be true. Once my father told me not to be coy, to listen to something of glue. He said to me don't touch this fly ribbon kid, but what did I do? I went and did. It's sticky like molasses and for good reason, my father had warned me of such treason. 'Don't touch that ribbon,' he'd said, with a frown and a finger. 'Touch it you'll stick forever, forever there to linger.'


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