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that came dripping out of their dreams
II.
Sometimes I will be out for
A while among the guns
The best days seem monotonous but they’re
Really not. Nothing is.
Sometimes I can’t say anything, and I want to
Those are the best days
III.
The wheels rub
Over the bridge
There’s a lot of me there
I can see
Feet in the tar
(angels angels angels)
IV.
Roll me your stone,
Roll me your stone—
Or my arms might sleep in the morning

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