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Edgar Allan Poe's tell-tale heart and his dream of America

Of the Grateful Dead and all that us Europeans left unsaid

Of the wide open prairies and the narrow canyons

The Atlantic-Pacific highway and 'I did it my way'.

The Chicago meatyards of Upton Sinclair. In the jungle

Fascism everywhere.  Capitalism plus murder and in America plus ads

Time square. Even when you've been there, you've

Never been there. You'll swear.  I’ll be your mirror
Reflect what you are, in case you don’t know
I’ll be the wind, the rain and the sunset
The light on your door to show that you’re home.


So from Manhatten Island to Birmingham Alabam

From Puritan believer to the 'big I-am'

The radio jocks would argue with the wind

And in a sort of Stephen King, spooky way

We end-up where we begin.

◄ Roll Away the Stone

Dance, dance ►


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