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lyrics

Black spartan lands
Salt flats and pans
Vast, Atacaman, all asphalt and glass
What a man saw was that sand as a maw
Past as a path, as a trap, as a flaw

A scarab ball, an alarm, a star fall
Mark that dark patch that casts a ghost pall
Craft a small map - salad days call!
Grasp at that canvas, claw as an awl

Dark falls past days
Man sat at a camp
Palm wraps an arm and a scarf wraps a hand
Was that a jackdaw, a hawk, a sad bat?
Warmth crawls as dawn draws an arc, a sharp band

credits

from Year of The Bird (Volume 4), releases December 23, 2019

license

all rights reserved

tags

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