I am old, very old, but I don't need a
It being on a fine summer's morning
As the birds sweetly
The back of the winter is broken
And light lingers long
As I look at the valley down below
It is green
In Monument Valley we ride
Myself and my Navajo guide
I'm moved
Somewhere along the road
Someone waits for me
Beyond the present storms
'Twas the wild flowers I preferred
Who owed nothing to nobody
But
What will you do, love, when I am going
With white
Emma worked a lifetime toward her better life She built
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