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I knew a South Korean doll
With skin like milk and eyes like coal.
I’d met her in a bar in Seoul;
A dark and dingy dirty hole.

I fell in love with this young soul.
Her hand in marriage was my goal,
And through the streets with her I’d stroll
And with sweet words my girl cajole:

Would she agree to take that role?
To be my wife and make me whole?
Poor me, now nothing can console;
She said “aniyo!” then added “LOL”

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