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2010-08-21 - harvest time

what kind of fool would I be
what kind of tool
can't you see
if I don't rule what's left of me
then I can't lead

unless I say to my vice
no delay
paradise
can never be
sever me
from all my greed

so plant the seed
there is no need
there's no mephistopheles
no disease in the breeze
can stunt this growth

it's a chariot I ride
horses flaming side by side
on an ever rising tide
to swear the oath

as the heart pumps out the blood
we will overcome with love
all ye hateful and ungrateful
fall and pray

let divide the wrong from right
separate the dark from light
burning brightly in the night
come the day

tree beside the river's edge
fruitful bearing limbs and hedge
branching upward in this pledge
generations
stations
ledge
lay
it
up
for
all
to
see
roots submerging ceaselessly
rest your weary head on me never more to fear
smell. see. taste. and hear. harvest time draws near.

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