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a storm is riding on the tide
and my name is truthful
long ago, in the young moonlight
the earth keeps some vibration going
afraid no more, i say
what was it the engines said
within my hand i hold
soft as the bed in the earth
this is the song of youth
all my love for my sweet
softly weeping
i am fevered
one sweetly solemn thought
wheel me down by the meadow

 



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