Kurtz, Kurtz, to remember him it hurts
Few places is it worse to make a bungle
Than to do so in some godforsaken jungle.
To make your fortune in the Congo
And fall prey to the spear and the bongo
To make your way up that sinuous river
While tiny parasites attack your liver
Your beautiful life has turned to crud
And they bury you in some convenient mud.
Better for you to have stayed in Brussels
Than struggle with nature with all your muscles.
:)
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