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By Simon Joyner, She calls you from a room somewhere in the city
Hear
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By Simon Joyner, Answer night when she calls to you
See this white scar
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By Simon Joyner, Alas, our love is gone
At least I don't where it
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By Simon Joyner, There are hatchet homes for howling souls
Where the gravel
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By Simon Joyner, Came a yellow bird outside my window
Said bring me
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By Simon Joyner, Time to shrug your shoulders
Has passed some time ago
The sun
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By Simon Joyner, The quiet before the storm is worse than the storm
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By Simon Joyner, There's a candlelight vigil for the new fallen hero
But I've
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By Simon Joyner, I saw an eagle on a pole,
I think it
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By Simon Joyner, Sliding back and sifting through
the litter from a parade
I didn't
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By Simon Joyner, Judas met Jesus just before dawn
He said listen brother there
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By Simon Joyner, The magazine needs flippin’ through
The calendar needs tearing too
The dry
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By Simon Joyner, Lay down drunk and make promises
I won't do that if
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By Simon Joyner, Fool's gold on Main St. from stop signs to dangling
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By Simon Joyner, [spoken] ok
The moon is fat and lazy.
Me, I'm just down
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By Simon Joyner, Haven't touched the floor today
Want the walls to go away
But
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By Simon Joyner, Hallelujah, I am abandoned.
Hallelujah, I am alone.
Hosannah, Hosannah, you are
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By Simon Joyner, Well she cut herself loose
Wasn’t it you who always said
Freedom’s
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By Simon Joyner, When you're up on your pedestal
they say the moon is
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By Simon Joyner, Here's another song about an old hotel
A place you can
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By Simon Joyner, I was sullen and full of dread
Blackbirds circled above my
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By Simon Joyner, when your heart aches
like it was left out in
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By Simon Joyner, I wrote a song about the ocean I wrote a
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By Simon Joyner, When I can't sleep I mill around
Like a mouse sweeping
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By Simon Joyner, The gospel dogs are wailing now that the sun has
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By Simon Joyner, The ripples crawl into the past as easily as they
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By Simon Joyner, You call yourself a friend,
but I must be the exception
that
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By Simon Joyner, The night slinks down in his chair and pulls his
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By Simon Joyner, Who cremated the morning
And sprinkled it over my forehead?
It's not
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By Simon Joyner, This is not a song,
this is just one of those