[Bridge] High green chilly winds and windy vines in loops around the twining shafts of lavender they’re crawling to the sun. Wonder who will water all the children of the garden when they sigh about the barren lack of rain and droop so hungry ’neath the sky (-ay) Underfoot the ground is patched with climbing arms of ivy wrapped a round the manzanita stark and shiny in the breeze. William Tell has stretched his bow till it won’t stretch no furthermore And/or it may require a change that hasn’t come before.
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