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The Bunkhouse
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Put the chair against the handle In the window light a candle When you're smoking up The chimney slowly The wind it blew the slates off Your prayers float through the foxglove Grip the iron bed post quickly We watched them carry the coffin From the house down to the river They recited "Come away from the well" At the gathering the whole room it fell silent It heckled and grew violent I stood at your back Deep breath, haystack

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