There was a gloomy donkey, who lived a gloomy life
He had three gloomy children beside his gloomy wife

He lived upon a gloomy yard and worked his gloomy trade
By digging lots of gloomy graves with just his gloomy spade

But then one gloomy evening within that gloomy yard
The donkey dug a grave so deep it dug up something hard

All clean and pale and beautiful with pretty, pearly teeth
A pair of mighty curling horns but what lay underneath?

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