She comes down from Yellow Mountain
On a dark, flat land she rides
On a pony she named Wildfire
With a whirlwind by her side
On a cold Nebraska night
Oh, they say she died one winter
When there came a killing frost
And the pony she named Wildfire
Busted down its stall
In a blizzard he was lost
She ran calling Wildfire
Calling Wildfire...
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And don't worry, I'll get better. I think I'm overworrying and thinking it's something really serious, but I've always been wrong in the past when I've worried too much. I'll know by next week, at least.