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Solitude | ||
| The air is fresh and somewhat dry. The flowers in the park are bright. The cars are whizzing swiftly by And beggars have gone out of sight. Despite the people all around It's easy to feel quite alone. No friends are waiting to be found And music has a hollow tone. Yet God is in this place, I'm sure. He's telling every bird to sing. May solitude He well can cure And help me smile at everything. | ||
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