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Them Bird Things
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Bliss
Scarlet sky in morning take warning You're a rhyme in frost tied in knots I'm a tear in paper, a letter lost
I haul my heart on a sledge down to town and set it on edge with a scowl and a frown embracing my pain in the wake of fate
Our dreams were dashed, swept away the day that you drowned no trace was found and still I stalk the widow's walk
graves to your left and graves to your right mother Mary and Eddie, baby Jane and dad two score and a year as the end draws near
Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Home is the hunter from hill and sailor from the sea, oh, it was the good Lord's will now let the poor boy be
so I descend from Foster Hill into the valley past Pig's Alley to a stone in the grass though no body below
now that the chill wind which comes from the east has turned into birdsong and a warm summer breeze let us cross the river and rest under the trees
Home is the hunter from hill and sailor from the sea, oh, it was the good Lord's will now let the poor boy be
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