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The Tabernacle

Good Lord I loved those old days.

They way that life it glowed.

West Virgina misty mountains-

a girl I used to know.

 

All the people I done roamed with.

oh the songs that we all sung.

In that subtle little accent-

the sunrise always young.

 

Thank you for your time Sir.

Pleasure to meetcha Ma'am.

Here's a kettle full of memories-

and a vessel to be manned.

 

As we ride across the channels.

All our demons strong in tow.

Its every tiny morsel-

that gives us strength to row.

 

Downward way past furthur.

Always fresh right on the mind.

Is the way the forest parted-

when we left it all behind.

 

Ah but never to be forsaken.

Somewhere on a shelf.

Is a little piece of all of you-

and a shadow of myself.

 

Holding a candle tightly.

Keeping up the pace.

An empty highway driving-

simply searching for some grace.

 

To keep up with ocean.

Then ride up with the wind.

Just to get up in the morning

find another place to swim.

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Written by
absent-minded
Published
Sep 8, 2010
Lines·Words
32·175
Notes

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