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If joy had a residence, a dwelling or an office Then as a boy I believed it was in the woods at West Peace If joy had a color; appeasing and the envy of the rainbow It was of the grass on the ground, which was green with a dull glow West Peace was the name of a field I used to play West of the town, where my loving mother and I used to stay The tree leaves were mostly dry and the grass was not always green But when I came home late, mother always knew where I had been The field was always popular with the town folks The fragrance of summer and lovers cuddling beneath the oaks Families on picnics with dogs that had wagging tails and long tongues Happily running about as children and birds screamed out of their lungs I remember well the long and winding narrow path And the patches of red mole hills over the earth It was the only place after school I could spend It was there I first met her; it was there I lost my best friend There was a tree at the corner where my darling and I curved our names One day she kissed me under the tree, as other children played their games But my best friend was up the tree, for every true love has a spy He missed a step and came falling hard and on the field he lie When he died children played at West Peace no more The priest said there was evil there, and nobody wanted to go But on sleepless nights, I would stagger to the field on my own And talk to my best friend under the tree till dawn I always knew my lover had her own life to build She would talk of places far beyond West Peace field My love for the field was true and so was my love for her But she never came back to the field after her dad bought her a car My lover left town on the summer she turned eighteen The same year mother died, and my smile was never again seen Then I heard my ex crashed her car someplace far and was killed Now I spend my days alone drinking at West Peace field thecowboyrides@gmail.com
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