Dale, vale, tales
Of stone and ditch and vetch
As I approach the ledge
I know that vertigo
Will kick in
Kick in, kick on
See it for what it is
No more than
Sharp and glossy stubble
Fear of the day
Long cut field paths
Water falls
Water pools
Hockney it was, I think
Who talked of big skies
Outside the cities bounds
Good times, bad times
Aspire to treat them equal
Feel refreshed, be my friend
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