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Los Chiquinarcos

de Los Richards

The winds would change but my direction stayed the same
These were The Last Days of Summer
Before the leaves had fallen from the trees
And the gardener claims their branches

My eyes are falling toward the ground
As my mind is wanting to make sense of it all

Well you hold on tight before that long winter night
Only the strong will survive it
I would find there's comfort in the snow
The white blanket a heavenly reminder

As my eyes are falling toward the ground
As the crows are circling; a pattern has been revealed

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