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Dec 2015
Well everybody's thinking
They're the ones that know
And everybody's knowing
They're the ones to show

Well I can see
So don't try to tell me
You got some kind of line
To the other side
Where it's too green
To be good
And so free
The prisons are in ruins

I heard all the people
Talking to the preacher
I followed where they're going
Until I met a teacher
He told me many thing
He taught me very few
I asked, "Which road shall I travel?"
He said "That's only for you."

I've paid in my dues
And I've returned my keys
To the resting places of my fathers
Now the wind on my face
The dust at my feet
To choose the direction to follow

I'll ask now again
As I think the timings fair
Please, won't you tell me?
When the map was lost back with the compass
To escape this broke down place
The direction I travel...
Which way may I find grace?

The times are getting heavy
And the rains are coming steady
So I'll pick my hole to crawl in
Moving on with the weather
For worse or for better
Just as long as my health allows
Written by
Jara Jones
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