Title: Optional

Text: I wanna be where the talk of the town is about last night, when the sun went down. Yeah, and the trees all dance and the warm wind blows, and the same old sound. And the water below gives a gift to the sky, and the clouds give back every time they cry. Make the grass grow green, beneath my toes, and if the sun comes out; I'll paint a picture all about the colors I been dreamin' of the hours just don't seem enough to put it all together. Maybe its as strange as it seems. Mmm, mmm. Each paragraph will be a test.

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