A strange sound persuades me to move
Hardly a thought passes by
And my hair begins to sway
following the direction of the wind.
Oh wind, Oh mighty wind
What must I do to keep myself in place,
To keep my desired control,
To steer away from the flow?
Must I be so easily moved?
So carelessly should my movements be?
No thought, no control, no intentions but to follow?
One thing I must know,
when am I to be free from your strength?
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