"A Horse With No Name" by America.
On the first part of the journey
I was looking at all the life
There were plants and birds and rocks and things
There was sand and hills and rings
The first thing I met was a fly with a buzz
And the sky with no clouds
The heat was hot and the ground was dry
But the air was full of sound
There were plants and birds and rocks and...things? The heat was hot? Thanks for nothing, Wordsworth.
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