Reprising
Madge, do you sometimes sit down and hear
The songs that winced across your fence, do
Think of the desert place our childhood grew up
Drinking those songs like anesthesia, old
Things now, but lasting more brightly to bring
A sense of distance from the lost, and a sense
Longing for the past, a sense of wanting things
To last, and the past to try again some part
While from away the haunting song teases the heart
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