Оригинальный текст
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A town too small
With eyes too cold
Cloud shaped thoughts are calling me
The ol’ doug fir
He held my fear
As cloud shaped thoughts were calling me
I need to find a place to call home
The searching steers my mind
Crushed by the worry that I’ve already found it
Would I want this for my child?
A year grew old
I danced through tears
As cloud shaped thoughts followed me
The pen that hugs the page so gently paves the way
Turns out the answer doesn’t come from clinging tighter
Would I want that for my child?
The mind holds fast
And still I stay
As cloud shaped thoughts are part of me
Would I want this for my child?
