Week eight now? Scuba's flyin' the black flag now, so perhaps the end is near?
Yar, matey!
Me eye is upon the treasure,
but me numbers are not figgered by measure.
'tis the heart's breeze what fills me sails,
and plunder's dream what kills me ails.
So I cast me lot, same as before;
no less, but trawlin' for more!
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07 28 54 MB 14