I'd rather waltz than just walk through the forest. The trees keep the tempo and they sway in time. Quartet of crickets chime in for the chorus. If I were to pluck on your heart strings would you strum on mine?
I'd rather waltz than just walk through the forest. The trees keep the tempo and they sway in time. Quartet of crickets chime in for the chorus. If I were to pluck on your heart strings would you strum on mine?
How can I be king of the world? Because I am king of rubbish. And rubbish is what the world is made of. — Kate DiCamillo, The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane
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