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Ransom Notes

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2017-01-02

  Ransom Notes - S O H N

  There was a time

  When the mountains kept their place

  They stood in line

  And they waited back the gaze

  No one could see

  No terrain now is a rock

  No feet could find

  Near the heart of old road bluff

  The hills are worn

  The place about growing pains

  The earths are closed

  The mountains had their way

  The kids have grown

  And they watched it from above

  Now I'm alone

  And I see no way to run

  We float on the breeze

  We are held to a ransom

  We are bones on the riffs

  Waiting for the waves, the waves,

  We float on the breeze

  We are held to a ransom

  We are bones on the riffs

  Waiting for the waves, the waves,

  We float,

  We are bones

  We float on the breeze

  We are held to a ransom

  We are bones on the riffs

  Waiting for the waves, the waves,

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