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1989-08-21
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648b
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23 lines
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Forest fires. They burn.
Ardent phone, gears turn.
Quiet silence in the night.
Art Linkletter, he's all right.
Pen and paper, with them we learn.
Able-bodied men, heed my call.
Shut down the casino and close the mall.
Big is not small, and small is not big.
The mightiest of trees is but only a twig.
In the midst of the fall. (not autumn, man).