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Frigid Air | ||
| The winds of March have come too soon. I much prefer the balm of June. The blasts can cut me to the bone, Chilling all the blood I own. By exercising I can beat The frigid air with body heat. But if I stop, the nasty breeze Will cause me once again to freeze. I know some day the wind will cease And all the blossoms find release. Until that day I'll bide my time Or find a friendly tropic clime. | ||
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