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A sweltering, stewing August afternoon as a fan blows hot stale air,
You taste the sweat on your lip, gritty with salt
and it makes you thirsty for change.
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moonlight dancing, raindrops glistening ,
splash, laugh, smile, run
oh what a time, remembering when
climbing trees, yelling "you're it",...
I'm from rifles,
From footballs and shotguns.
I'm from the dirt and grass on my farm,
From the four wheeler that I can still remember
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