this mornings thought
And when they say I'm dead and gone
It won't be further from the truth
It won't be further from the truth
Roads go ever ever on, Over rock and under tree, By caves where never sun has shone, By streams that never find the sea; Over snow by winter sown, And through the merry flowers of June, Over grass and over stone, And under mountains in the moon.
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By the way, does this mean you had a great morning??
(Please notice the correct use of the apostrophe.)
:P
it's not me.
:)