Old Bridge Knows The Silent River Is Deep
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Listening to the whispers at a late night
I try to compose a song with my lonely guitar.
Standing on an old bridge
I gaze at the calm river flows down.
And see Moon floats on the gentle waves.
I write my first few lines;
There the Moon has come down
And the old bridge knows the silent river is deep
But I cannot miss this chance and I strum with a humble plea
Do you hear my clumsy glee?
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