life
gets even
in the
end
a
tragedy
southern
whites
still
depend
on
finding
dusk
neither
grand
nor
old
he
didn’t
do as
he was
told
he didn’t
really
believe
did he
the
money
was so
tempting
this
isn’t
something
you
learn
it’s
shining
in dirt
like
nineteen
seventy-three
the
rain fell
one
hundred
percent
the
smoke alarm
battery
beeped
spent
again
like it
did
back when
it had
the
blues
it sang
bad
news
and
no
matter
what
you do
if you
play
those tunes
if you
know
the loose
well
maybe
you’re
through
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