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Mother, feeling your hand iBelieve you and I did thenAnd mother, release every bad seedThe geese are leaving the treesExposed to winter’s coldThey waited too longBut we too exaggeratedAnd I take the cake awayIt’s a long songAnd I can play it soGive me a pick now collector of bonesWords of smokeDistorted, never brokenParadise is open but I chokeOne of these days when I see through the smokeThat’ll be the day I get the joke(repeat from exposed to winter’s cold)

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