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The whispers of change
They say the pen is Mightier then the sord
Oh lord knows words from a friend will kill you in the end
So why pretend
You wake in a haze of yesterday's
Not knowing if the wind will blow again
Without family or friend
Living and dying
When your soul is dining
On the flesh of yesterday's memories
Of times or places of once was
As the crow blows
And knowing your rooster has passed along the wayside
And your dog has moved a way
Leaving for sunnier days
And those prayers you uddered in your beer lastnight went in vain
Wile sleeping in the rain
Once a prominent man
Now a has been
Living in the old days of yesterday
You dare ask God why
When he is having the time of his life
Playing in the games of life
With his loving wife
Now don't cry over the dead mans grave
He ant dead yet
But he is forgotten
Because his mind has gone rotten
Like a head of cabbage
Left to long in the fields of yesterday's memories
When times were good
But in the wind who can pretend
Even the mightiest will say
The wind change on the best of days
Even when you can count on them
You can't
And they will be like all your fair weather friends
And leave you alone again
Lost to time in the fields of yesterday's memories
Like fine wine it could sour
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