Diary Of Wood

Circulatory System

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    People made of paper
    Come and go
    But shadows grow
    Green behind
    In a diary of wood
    We found the things
    That make us grow these worlds
    An umbrella made of stone
    And the focus that will turn to sand
    You get the general idea
    To call in all the troops
    That are close at hand
    Pretend you're a soup of sky
    Past earth tonight
    Let's send them photographs
    From way outside
    Way inside

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    Song details

    Composition: William Poogie Hart

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