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Pagan Wanderer Lu
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Westminster Quarters
God forged it the earth
then under hands of men
It was wrought to wring this curse
I hear when you're away
and onto velvet falls
falls the dust from their bones
falls the last prayer on their lips
in the penitentiary walls
sleeping alone it tolls
and this is what I hear....
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girl come home soon
I sure you miss you
I search the streets for you
there is no breadcrumb trail
the mattress on your car
the flowers on table
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