This road is so well-travelled,
Each wooden batten known,
Each bush along its borders,
Marks the time that’s flown.
I recognise the mist that lingers,
That spreads across the forest floor,
I know its chilly fingers,
That grip from times before.
I know this road well-travelled,
The land it passes through,
Above all, I know each twist and turn,
Because this path leads to you…

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