| Cattail Down, the morning rail yard whistle blows.
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| Cattail Down, our boxcar bound for no-one-knows.
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| After every hidden seed out from its covering has been free and every book has
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| been discarded from the bookshelf.
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| Cattail Down, in the forgetting of myself.
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| Cattail Down, replace the feathers in our vest.
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| Cattail Down, surround the ivy that’s gone to poison in my chest.
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| The Parachute broke loose!, cried the Goose with misplaced (but understandable)
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| concern for his little Brother’s mental health, his happy little Brother in the
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| forgetting of himself.
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| Cattail Down, around the bulrush the pollen shed.
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| Cattail Down, to dress my wounds, it left a Bee sting in their stead.
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| Have been anger thoughts from out my head
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| Headed east out of St. Paul we stopped for water, rested in the cemetery,
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| watched the Mississippi.
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| Running out of food stamps, found a bag along the footpath off highway 61,
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| filled with what looked like marijuana.
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| (don't worry, Mom, we left it there…)
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| Hopped a grainer out of Pig’s Eye toward Milwaukee, the Deer between the tower
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| and the tracks saw right through us, said:
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| You don’t know where you came from, you don’t know where you’re going.
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| You think you’re you, but you don’t know who you are, you’re not you…
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| you’re Everyone Else.
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| You’re Everyone Else… |