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Some moons ago I hiked that country all over the three sisters. I even know the road you mention.
A man could have a much worse day than running his Stang around in that part of the world.
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Wrap me up in my old flying jacket,
And give me a joystick to hold, to hold,
And I'll soar once again o'er the trenches
And thus shall my exploits be told.
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