Clownfish to the left of me
Groupers to the right
Here I am
Swimming upstream with you
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How do I fry thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to deep fry and breaded and by bite
My sole can perch, when yearling out of sight
For the ends of breading and by grilling grate.
I love thee to the flaky every day
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from sauce bearnaise

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