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The signpost stands where the crossways meet
There's but one road to the journey's end
The wanderer bent with his heavy load
Is waiting for a friend.
The sun sinks slowly behind the hill
The dead leaves lie where the wind has blown
Likewise he who has travelled far
Must find his way alone.
And as he leaves so the signpost turns
To point the way to the journey's end
The old grey man with his heavy load
No longer needs a friend.
