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O proud left foot, that ventures quick within then soon upon backward journey lithe.
Anon, once more the gesture, then begin;
Command sinistral pedestal to writhe.
Commence thou then the fevrid Hokey-Poke. A mad gyration, hips in wanton swirl.
To spin!
A wilde release from heavens yoke.
Blessed dervish. Surely canst go.
The Hoke! The Poke-- Banish now thy doubt.
Verily I say, tis what is all about.