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Breezes | ||
| Breezes come to clear the air, Pushing all the fog away. 'Tis a morning bright and fair Ready for your work and play. Since our job is so much fun, It is hard to call it work. When the daily task is done, We will not another shirk. 'Tis a joy to be alive In a tropic wonderland, Watching vegetation thrive In a sun that feels so grand. | ||
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