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lyrics

Five pelts hangin' from a flagpole/ One striped, one grey, the others just old/ The gust up there was a nattering tongue/ Threatening to make them all come undone/ I walked sideways down the stairwell/ Found the spider in your navel— who spun webs around my fingers; decapitated my stinger/ I distilled into water/ Formed resin on the auger/ Gripped the hilt of your umbrella/ dug a gape into the cellar/ Five pelts burning on a heap of coal/ An old tin latter wound up in the hole/ strong words spilling from a glass jaw/ I'd like to contend, but I agree with ya

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