| We’ve left our homes,
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| for the dusty road,
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| though it weighed us down,
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| to go.
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| Now, see, burning in the sun,
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| fire in our bellies.
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| Today ate us up,
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| and never chewed.
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| Though we still rolled along, cause 'a you.
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| The change that we don’t see,
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| is happening to me though you are watching.
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| It is cold, it is dark,
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| in the big black heart,
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| of the wood, of the hill,
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| at our home.
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| We are all, all but left,
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| in a wit un-breath.
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| We are all of the pack,
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| in the fire.
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| It is green, it is damp,
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| by the burning lamp,
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| of the woods, of the hills,
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| of our homes.
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| Oh, how I long, for the things I have,
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| for the burden I don’t own.
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| Do I know, how to please your head
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| pour the contents back, that are spilling from my back.
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| the day is long, and the spark won’t call
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| No saw, in the chest.
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| It is cold, it is dark,
|
| in the big black heart,
|
| of the wood, of the hill,
|
| at our home.
|
| We are all, all but left,
|
| in a wit un-breath.
|
| We are all of the pack,
|
| in the fire.
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| Oh you, the husband of the wife,
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| I know you are watching.
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| Oh you, the husband of the wife,
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| I know you are watching. |