Millions of miles from home In the darkness before the dawn In the swirling of this storm When I'm rolling with the thunder But bleed from thorns Leave a light, a light on.
Millions of miles from home In the darkness before the dawn In the swirling of this storm When I'm rolling with the thunder But bleed from thorns Leave a light, a light on.
A person is a fool to become a writer. His only compensation is absolute freedom. He has no master except his own soul, and that, I am sure, is why he does it. — Roald Dahl
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