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Mar 2015
-The north winds whistling through the eaves
-Your gritty mumblings in deep sleep
-The rain hitting the bedroom window
-Blown derbies upon the panes

These things brew an ointment,
which I will rub into my soul for eternity.
S R Mats
Written by
S R Mats  F/Houston, TX
(F/Houston, TX)   
654
   Scott Nitzberg, ---, ---, --- and SPT
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