| Sadie, white coat
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| You carry me home
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| And bury this bone
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| And take this pine cone
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| Bury this bone
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| To gnaw on it later, gnawing on the telephone
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| Until then, we pray and suspend
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| The notion that these lives do never end
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| And all day long we talk about mercy
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| Lead me to water, Lord, I sure am thirsty
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| Down in the ditch where I nearly served you
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| Up in the clouds where he almost heard you
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| And all that we built and all that we breathed
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| And all that we spilt or pulled up like weeds
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| Is piled up in back and it burns irrevocably
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| And we spoke up in turns till the silence crept over me
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| And bless you and I deeply do
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| No longer resolute, oh and I call to you
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| But the water got so cold
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| And you do lose what you don’t hold
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| This is an old song, these are old blues
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| And this is not my tune
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| But it’s mine to use
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| And the seabirds where the fear once grew
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| Will flock with a fury and they will bury what’d come for you
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| And down where I darn with the milk-eyed mender
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| You and I and a love so tender
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| Stretched on a hoop where I stitch this adage
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| Bless our house and its heart so savage
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| And all that I want and all that I need
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| And all that I’ve got is scattered like seed
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| And all that I knew is moving away from me
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| And all that I know is blowing like tumbleweed
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| And the mealy worms in the brine will burn
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| In a salty pyre among the fauns and ferns
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| And the love we hold and the love we spurn
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| Will never grow cold, only taciturn
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| And I’ll tell you tomorrow
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| Oh Sadie, go on home now
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| And bless those who’ve sickened below
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| And bless us who have chosen so
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| And all that I’ve got and all that I need
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| I tie in a knot and I lay at your feet
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| And I have not forgot but a silence crept over me
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| So dig up your bone, exhume your pinecone, Sadie |