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Eighteen weeks till we do run
eighteen weeks till you do fly,
eighteen weeks time to prepare
for the distance we’ll two try.
You shall run while I’ll hobble
as wind through Yosemite.
Though we’ll start and end same place
know you’ll race away from me.

For you race for tomorrow,
while I run from yesterday,
every step for me’s burden
while you run with hope of may.
Your step is light and lively
while my two left feet do plod,
lead cased feet will never lead
your feet with greased lightning shod.

But thirteen is the mileage
save a single scant tenth more,
wait for me at finish line;
swear I’ll finish for day’s o’er.
Trippingly goes great goddess
as she all comers defeats,
she is fast while I am slow
to race with her is a treat.

Eighteen weeks till we do run
eighteen weeks till you do fly,
eighteen weeks time to prepare
for the distance we’ll two try.
Eighteen weeks till we do run
eighteen weeks till you do fly,
eighteen weeks time to prepare
for the distance we’ll two try.