People Over Politics, World Over Wealth
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Oh, how I wander by the stream,
which runs through the forest.
Birds flit from tree to tree and I
wonder what’s to become of me.
Where will I go? When I leave the
woods. Where will my gods carry
me? Should I care, or must I hope
to find my way into the city, full
of squalor? Not very pretty. How’ll
I know I’ve reached my destination?
Must I offer a magic incantation, in
order to be the person I would choose?
Gone now. The time I sacrificed before
I became aware to dare beginning,
starting over, blessing, sinning
as only I know how to do.
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