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            It is by virtue of the past
            That we are prone to sin
            And it's not very difficult
            To let the blighter's in
            Everything we try to do
            To live a perfect life
            Is thwarted by those potent barbs
            That aid us in our plight.

            Each day we sorrowfully enquire
            Will You please take our lot
            And hand it over rather fast
            In case it makes a blot
            Upon our pristine character
            That's okay for a while
            Before the process starts again
            You might as well just smile.