The river sings against the wind
It sings a song against the wind
It sings a song of valleys bridged
And tumultuous torrents of other haunts.
The forest sings against the wind
It sings a song against the wind
It sings a song of dotted hills
And baby birds of higher trees.
The river flows between the trees
It flows so deep into the trees
It flows within the forest green
And the two shall sing until morning light.
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