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A rugged biker with a gray beard and bandana stands beside his motorcycle on a deserted road, set against dramatic, stormy skies and striking desert landscapes.
"...Oh, a million miles ain’t freedom! it’s a curse,
These wheels still turn, but the wounds bleed first!
She’s a shadow in the rearview, a rose turned ash,
Why’s the highway still callin’ when the love’s all past?"
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