Foreword
Poco
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It comes from the backwoods of meadows and memories
Sunshine encasted in honey sweet rhymes
That linger so gently in rustic illusions
To whittle your ears to the sound of the times
Continues after the ad
It comes from the backwoods of meadows and memories
Sunshine encasted in honey sweet rhymes
That linger so gently in rustic illusions
To whittle your ears to the sound of the times