Annabelle

Antje Duvekot

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    Annabelle is chasing gravel angels
    Mama's counting the lines on her face
    In her sleep she has seen herds of black sheep
    They are circling the compounds of disgrace

    And boys grow out of the rust
    Spin their wheels and turn to dust
    On Black Bird Lane, I can hear my mama singing,
    "Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah"

    Mama she is strong and there's power in her bones
    Papa don't talk, he stopped long ago
    Annabelle is dreaming, she is chasing down the street
    Tiny gravel angels, flying at her feet

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    And boys grow out of the rust
    Spin their wheels and turn to dust
    On Black Bird Lane, I can hear my mama singing,
    "Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah,
    Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah"

    Annabelle is making dirty coffee
    Been living all these years on Black Bird Lane
    In her sleep she has seen herds of black sheep
    Circling the compounds of disgrace

    Boys grow out of the rust
    Spin their wheels and turn to dust
    On Black Bird Lane, I can hear my mama singing,
    "Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah"

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