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Down in the woods,
Deep in the country,
The wild ferns grow,
And the roosters crow.
And right in the middle,
In the heart of the forest,
Lies a winding road,
Let the truth be told.
The folks love to talk,
Of what happened long ago,
The fair maiden ran,
But greater legend can.
Haunted was she,
By the sounds close by,
Remembering stories of fright,
Tales from the black night.
On and on went the little girl,
Followed by what she'd heard,
Deeper and farther into the unknown,
No chance had she to be shown.
And where this happened,
Was on that winding road,
Dark and scary,
The legend got Mary.
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