So hollow, so deep...
With a fate entrusted to the
winds,
and death by aimless, leaden feet?
Ready to soar, soar, soar..
Ready to die, die, die..
A member of the Fall foliage?
Part of the debris.
Floating among the clouds?
Embedded in the street.
Do you ever feel like a paper bag?
Do you ever feel like a paper bag?
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