I think about you and what the cowboys would think
when they thought about you.
They would only think about you if I asked them what they
thought about you.
What I am saying is I want to go back and ask them what they
think. What they think about you.
They say they travel on dangerous roads. Through lawless plains
filled with thieves. To bring these voices to you.
When the cork is old it can plop right down
into the bottle. There is a secret joy in knowing
that things are not going to be the way you
thought they might be
If you listen carefully you can hear
a small plop. And then you hear a voice:
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