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Ben Wilkins
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The Road Is Long
Facing the secluded highway Waiting for a stranger to reconcile the view Birds sing alleluia and tumbleweeds roll on and on And what are we to do?
Misty clouds on the horizon Promises of rainfall unravel at every turn To quiet the echoing silence we holler out a murmur Bones in our bodies and stomachs churn
The road's long The road is long and the walking is mundane
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