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Saint Raymond
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The River
I walked with the river in kind of a dream Hand in hand, the all knowing river and me To the clamor of rushes and deeply barren trees A drunk making blossom, the blush to be seen
I told him my sorrows and broken down dreams Confessed every lie, replayed every scene He openly wept as he listened to me And then with the sun in the west he showed me the sea
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