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Rolling On | ||
| The road is clear and almost dry. The miles on highways seem to fly. Our magic carpet rolls along As we are list'ning to a song. We pass a million busy folks All hard at work yet telling jokes, Or unemployed and feeling lost! For them the day will have its cost. The trees are waving, stark and bare. Their branches lifted high in prayer. We have much cause for happy smiles As we are rolling o'er the miles. | ||
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