Bräsigkeit ist Tod,
machst du ein auf Selbst ist Bräsigkeit der Tod.
Bräsigkeit malt mit dir zinnoberrot.
Laber nicht von Hunger, du hast mehr als genug.
Die Bräsigkeit geht um, dann holt dich der Tod.
Bräsigkeit schubst keine Kuh vom Eis, die du bist und es schmilzt der Piranhateich.
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