What a long strange trip it’s been

Reach out your hand if your cup be empty
If your cup is full may it be again
Let it be known there is a fountain
That was not made by the hands of man

There is a road, no simple highway
Between the dawn and the dark of night
And if you go, no one may follow
That path is for your steps alone

For this is all a dream we dreamed one afternoon

— RIP Robert Hunter, 1941-2019

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