To the old and blue, the 600 that once was new, a feeling I must confess.
During this time of snow sublime, my soul is in distress.
Part of me died, there in the lot it lies, because of Rexburg's bitter cold.
That flame and fire, fueled by desire shall no longer the roam the open road.
But from these frosty ashes I shall rise again, a stronger and better man.
To see the sky and walk the line from whence I started and began.
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