The sky is always heavy here,
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And the mules they roam in packs.
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And the skulls we dragged from waterholes,
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By the woodshed in a stack.
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And fear don't ever come out alone.
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And the bad moon flies by night.
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And the choices made won't come again.
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'Cause the first choice wasn't right.
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No time for me to wash,
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The sand & gravel.
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Downwinders, we still watch the sky.
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And each cloud has a name.
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Thunderhead & casket face.
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Keep your head on, don't breathe.
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The hills will slowly cover you,
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'Til their blessings are disguised.
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And the choices made will travel home.
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Leaving all their junk behind.
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No time for me to wash,
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The sand & gravel.
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Got bags of ash and worry stones,
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Buried by the fence.
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And some Army water from a can,
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Left over from the tests.
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The great unwashed is out my door,
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And it will lose you in a pinch.
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And now that sorry don't mean spit.
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I have memorized each inch.
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No time for me to wash,
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The sand & gravel here.
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Sand & Gravel
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The Walkabouts |