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Drifting | ||
| Paper blowing in the breeze Doesn't know where it will go. It may wind up in the trees, Or keep drifting to and fro. Gusts can give it sudden speed, Or the rain can force it down. It is drifting like a seed All around the windy town. We, too, drift from place to place, Wondering where we'll end up, Seeking fame and not disgrace, Hoping with the Lord to sup. | ||
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