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 The morning was cold, the coffee was strong Sunlight on the table, looking for a song The wind was lifting up fast a black Raven bird On the back of an envelope I wrote down these words Put the pen down for a moment, picking the strings over wood Old guitar with old strings, to my ears sounding good Started singing to the day, as my thumb brushed the strings Sending it your way on the wind 'neath those Black Raven Wings |
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