eight- bittersweet

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in the direction the wind blows, 

that's where i'll go.

no command in this life shall i follow


gone from the grip of everyday life, 

freely i run, 

listening only to the wild dance of my heart


i'll for the trees, to the lakes, into the sun, 

as your iron clad grip let me go

so i'll happily sprint, and wave goodbye

at the bittersweet end of the road

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