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you're sweeping up the soldiers
and every song is thin
gather acorns for winter
so you know where you've been
but where you been, my old friend?

you've got rags and tears and tethers
you glued on your feathers
and you shift around
like you haven't slept in months
are you still sore about it?

grab your guns
we're going hunting
it's a long time coming

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