i have grown old these ways
yet still young rivers born
while i flow to their babble
cutting a current of my own
mine, this watercourse
winter sets bone
the bare branches
for winds let go
jipjipjip
old wren the freshfall
i have grown old these ways
yet still young rivers born
while i flow to their babble
cutting a current of my own
mine, this watercourse
winter sets bone
the bare branches
for winds let go
jipjipjip
old wren the freshfall
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