The screen door to the farmer's porch
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To the back porch, to the backlands
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It's never left closed
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A new air pushed a full wind
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That brought worlds on through
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That only he could know
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As the last of November passed
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With his new life, with his new wife
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She said she was feeling a little cold
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The ghost of a clown just danced in and
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Did a few tricks and danced out again
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Warming a farmer's soul
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Summer was all there was
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We were working, breathing heat
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Terror rising out of control
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Through that door came a breeze
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Wrapped on through our heads and around our spines
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Cooling off the burning floor
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The morning's breaking woke us long enough
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We were sure we could see
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The whole of some older birds
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Riding to the ground on the falling leaves
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Riding to the ground on some falling leaves
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One last time
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One last time
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To feed
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-----------------
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Holden Oversoul
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Widespread Panic |