With many pride it turned walking , king of the basse-cour , after all he can to be proud , him the symbol blue . . . . .
The top of the ruins from there Rock Guyon , you dominates the sein and there countryside , c'est l'automne , he does lovely . . .
Poor little teddy white , es thou lost ? where is your mom ? you wants te stroke and you put away in our arm to warm you up . . . .