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Sitting on my back porch last night sipping a cold beverage, I heard some music playing. I could tell it was Sinatra. I could make out some of the lyrics not all. "Don't you love the farce? Losing my timing this late in my career. Where are the clowns, send in the clowns, there ought to be clowns. Don't bother they're here. Well, maybe next year."

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