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Break it.

#159
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And suddenly, you find yourself inside a giant microwave. The ice cream is melting, and the mountains are gone. :

I aim my sniper rifle (at the old man I was recently running away from).
O God of Earth and Altar,
Bow down and hear our cry,
Our earthly rulers falter,
Our people drift and die,
The walls of gold entomb us,
The swords of scorn divide,
Take not thy thunder from us,
Take away our pride.


G.K. Chesterton: English Hymnal