Silky and sweet,
His words were a treat,
The Holders sat still,
Admiring his skill.
Then came the sound,
The North Sound sound,
Flory spun round,
Like a virile young hound.
He didn't baulk,
He got back to the hawk,
Mumbwa's the game,
Where he'd find his fame.
Silky and sweet,His words were a treat,The Holders sat...
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