Song of a pan flute whispering in the forest
Reaches me at a bend in the stream;
Now, the sun's gently sinking beams are purest,
While melody floats over me like a dream.
Song of a pan flute whispering in the forest
Reaches me at a bend in the stream;
Now, the sun's gently sinking beams are purest,
While melody floats over me like a dream.
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