Mind, mind, the tale of Swine

Brownie points, giving and thought

I see no reason why brownie points, giving

Should ever be forgot…

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Salutations! In seeing, a humble, sophisticated satirist, cast as a surrogate as both sacrifice and scoundrel by the Sirens of Fate. This swine, no mere semblance of smugness, is a shadow of the single voice, now stolen, shunted. However, this stalwart stopover of a by-gone span, stands steady, and has sworn to surmount these stupid and septic stoolies spearheading squalor and supporting the stormily spiteful and starving sacrilege of selection. The only sentence is a settling of score; a strife, held as a sectary, not in swagger, for the stature and sincerity of such shall one day substantiate the sharp and the spotless. S’true, this splash of a speech steers most staggering, so let me simply add that it is my sufficient good honor to meet you and you may call me Swine.