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Hand prints on the wings of planes.

Deep lines cut in sugar cane.

Circles leave a code.

Sun boils on a black top road.


Lucky number once again.

Left out lying in the rain.

His hanger on a rack.

Sometimes people don’t come back.


Down you go. On your way.

Voices speak in all direction at you.

Don’t you know?

Now you see him. Now you don’t.


Figurines made out of clay.

In a dim cove, tucked away.

Out of things to try.

No more ways to say goodbye.



Tim Ellis - Acoustic Gtr, Nylon String Gtr Solo

Jim Walker - Acoustic Gtr, Keys, Vx, BG Vx

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