The curious tale of a big red machine
Finds a place here amongst the fall leaves
Once perhaps, the novelty of wonders
Practically any color would fall from its drop
Most onlookers now pass the antique
Though the cogs were oiled not so long ago
Gumball upon gumball fell from its glass
Much like dreams pour from the sandman's eyes
That machine in the field was not always so silent
Once it worked soundly and carried a tune
Then came the dew that rusted it shut
Attempts were made to make it turn
Foolery that ended quite the same way
The gumballs it spilled are now locked away tight
As time motioned past the cloudy, forgotten tale
Even the greatest of believers, believed it was late
For machines to start working against such a fate
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