HUNTING SEASON
The deep, the deep. Mr. Cardiff have you
been there before? I mean to say this ship
is sinking while we stand here at the door.
But is it true we've nowhere else to go?
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Sister, sister, listen to me; no more sitting
'neath the apple tree. This farmland is now
fodder for the urban mill. If they can build
here - yes, they will!
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Just outside the window pane, acres of
trees and forest. Rolling hills, snow and
rain. Brave men with rifles, stalking?
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