Borders
Chris Bathgate
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You know the sun it swings
Across my borders
And the day it hangs
Upon my shoulders
And worse then that
Is how they react
As if cornered, as if cornered
Well I don’t get by
On a happy tune
And I don’t get sun
In the afternoon
And when the evening fear
Is just coming on
I’m all static and quivering
With the shades all drawn
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With the shades all drawn