Give me another corner
begging to be turned
a trail meandering
toward an endless horizon
The blue sky day
where the blackbirds play
on the sun baked
dusty breeze
Swooping among
the dancing flax fields
singing their percussion song
while I pedal along
with nothing but a note
left on the kitchen counter
telling where I have gone
I won't be long
Just all day
but I'll be home before
the streetlights come on
and if there's a problem
I'll call collect
I'm sure there's a payphone
just around the next corner
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