Placeholder: Masquerading as a man with a reason My charade is the event of the season And if I claim to be a wise man, well It surely means that I don't know On a stormy sea of moving emotion Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean I set a course for winds of fortune But I hear the voices say Carry on my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more, no Masquerading as a man with a reason My charade is the event of the season And if I claim to be a wise man, well It surely means that I don't know On a stormy sea of moving emotion Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean I set a course for winds of fortune But I hear the voices say Carry on my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more, no

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Masquerading as a man with a reason My charade is the event of the season And if I claim to be a wise man, well It surely means that I don't know On a stormy sea of moving emotion Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean I set a course for winds of fortune But I hear the voices say Carry on my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more, no

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Masquerading as a man with a reason My charade is the event of the season And if I claim to be a wise man, well It surely means that I don't know On a stormy sea of moving emotion Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean I set a course for winds of fortune But I hear the voices say Carry on my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more, no
Masquerading as a man with a reason My charade is the event of the season And if I claim to be a wise man, well It surely means that I don't know On a stormy sea of moving emotion Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean I set a course for winds of fortune But I hear the voices say Carry on my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more, no
Samson was the epitome of an adventurera man born with an insatiable wanderlust that burned deep within his soul. Standing tall and broad-shouldered, Samson possessed a rugged charm that was impossible to ignore. Samson's sun-kissed skin bore the marks of countless hours spent under the open sky, his face etched with the lines of both laughter and weathered determination.
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Masquerading as a man with a reason My charade is the event of the season And if I claim to be a wise man, well It surely means that I don't know On a stormy sea of moving emotion Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean I set a course for winds of fortune But I hear the voices say Carry on my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more, no
Masquerading as a man with a reason My charade is the event of the season And if I claim to be a wise man, well It surely means that I don't know On a stormy sea of moving emotion Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean I set a course for winds of fortune But I hear the voices say Carry on my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more, no
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Masquerading as a man with a reason My charade is the event of the season And if I claim to be a wise man, well It surely means that I don't know On a stormy sea of moving emotion Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean I set a course for winds of fortune But I hear the voices say Carry on my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more, no
Masquerading as a man with a reason My charade is the event of the season And if I claim to be a wise man, well It surely means that I don't know On a stormy sea of moving emotion Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean I set a course for winds of fortune But I hear the voices say Carry on my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more, no
The Slavs knew well enough to fear him. A god of this primeval underworld, both venerated and cursed in turns. King of this pit where myths were born. But Alex had come to face no mere idol - Khors haunted her dreams, this blight that had driven her mother to the brink. Beyond the tomb's threshold, something was awakening. Slithering over stone like a loathsome serpent roused from slumber. Two baleful orbs blinked open, choking the passage in a miasma like the mouth of Hell. Alex clutched her bl
Samson was the epitome of an adventurera man born with an insatiable wanderlust that burned deep within his soul. Standing tall and broad-shouldered, Samson possessed a rugged charm that was impossible to ignore. Samson's sun-kissed skin bore the marks of countless hours spent under the open sky, his face etched with the lines of both laughter and weathered determination.
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