This is how a road gets made
Somebody walked on a virgin land
Someone else saw their tracks
And followed them, leaving a path
It seemed as though
I were looking down the hill when I first saw it
But as I walked on, I realized I was going up
Somebody whistled behind
And turning round, they seemed far below
Then I came to where there
Had been a fire and was shaded
From the sun by the trees
Figure of eight, it's our year, it always was
Credentials
Made of earth
Drinks water
Breathes air
Makes fire
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