A farmer travelling with his load Picked up a horseshoe on the road, And nailed if fast to his barn door, That luck might down upon him pour; That every blessing known in life Might crown his homestead and his wife, And never any kind of harm Descend upon his growing farm.
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“I love what I do. And why not be nice? I mean, I've seen people who work and they're apparently not enjoying it, and they're making sure everybody knows it.”
“There's a lot of times that both myself and my brother wish, obviously, that we were just completely normal.”