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Feb 2012
An urban song, draw me to the break,
the end of the page calls me.
I look, and lights shine on shadowy deeds;
my birthright, a scathing iron in my heart.
Never to follow the path of the father,
I go to follow the path of a son.
A son lost in the fog.
Alex Goodrich
Written by
Alex Goodrich  Los Angeles
(Los Angeles)   
508
 
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