The fishing line, was pulled tight by the favorite child
A colored coat he was wearing
In my life the church bells rang every night
And I made sure I was present
And bargain shelves are holding pieces of the devils tale
From floor to ceiling
And back upstairs all the pieces are always there
Try to embrace them
It’s cold outside as pigeons fidget into the night
With black spots on their feathers
If I could help I’d give a nickel to the snow that fell
And covered up all these feelings

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