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Boa Vista to Manaus | ||
| O'er the dusty road we go, Jarring bones with every blow. Modern bridges in the dust Don't inspire our fullest trust. We are on a rural bus! Driving is not up to us. We must take a ferry boat! Cross the river we will float. When we're greeted by the dawn We suppress a patient yawn. We can feel the humid breeze, See the swamps and swaying trees. | ||
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