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Slow falling whispers on pricked up ears Slow burning cinders, three long years between When we lit them in so much haste High hazard seasons, houses laid to waste Did you forget it all? Do you listen when I call? These fire trails lead north And slowly back in time, Slowly back in time Slowly back in time. Time has its reasons for letting go Comes as it pleases. This new growth beneath Where the branches are cracked and bowed Covers the feelings these old scars still show

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