she came along for the ride
white cross in hand
santana on the stereo
I had a feeling
that we were living on dry land
I pointed my gun
and said a prayer for the little ones
untying their hands
removing the scars
washing away the tears
the reasons will dwell longer
denial was inside us
we couldn't see
the smokestacks
I found a piece of papaer
blowing in the wind
and wrote this down
so you would remember me
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