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We live in the territory of the sasquatch, the great spirits of the earth and the waters, the salmon, and we would do well to remember it.
lyrics
You say there is no other way
No other way than what you know
The petal falls on your last day
The plowman reaps just what he sows
And oh the seeds that he must grow
And of the tracks left in the snow . . .
There are those who get ahead
And there are those who fall behind
You might wish that you were dead
I might wish that I was blind
But there is really no end in sight
One has to quench one's appetite . . .
My heart is in my first
Hold it up against the light
Groping blinding for your pulse
It eludes you every night
The air is thinner up in the hills
So many pass into the hills . . .
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