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Apr 2014
The wind rocks the cradle.
That plays into the night.
The moon brings the blues.
And everything is alright.

The horse shakes the saddle
That knocks me down.
Just let me go back.
To that burning town.

In a certain funk.
In a certain way.
I play with the fire, every day.
Willdaberry Blue
Written by
Willdaberry Blue
405
   PrttyBrd and Mary
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