the last of the repercussions died off real slow
and the sky was still
and the cold sun sank down beneath the snow
I hung by my hand from the tree outside
and I looked at the whole wide world.
when the voices came quietly.
I shut them down.
when a tricky young southerly wind
came at me with its high whistling sound.
I turned around to face it
with real arrogance burning inside.
and I drank in the whole wide world
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