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Pontiak
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Silver Shadow
The moon is high and it keeps rising.
Standing alone i ask it kindly,
To give back my light and ride the silver shadow.
Listless and creeping the house has hope.
It lets in the sun but no shadows,
Mounds of snow pile up in the corner.
The moon is low and it keeps sinking
And i am asking it things
I know it can't help me with.
With fear in our eyes we remember
When we would sit together
And ride the silver the shadows.
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