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well i wait for vindication
for these working, weary bones
someday i can see it
mossy timber, ancient stone

in the midnight
by the firelight
little house on a mountain side

if you come to see me
better bring your 4-wheel drive
i'll be snowed in for the winter
canned soup and cornmeal to stay alive


in this city of any day now
all our dreams can feel like home
don't need riches, don't need glory
just wanna place to call my own