country music isn't
enough
we're all fiddle players
said the violinist
in a dark dream
the dream song
sparkling in it's cloth
they want a genre
they stock the lakes
with signatures
tying off a fly
paper to the ceiling
I would live in any one of these
ugly ass houses
the farm has security footage
the gate code is
there are maybe 2
antique things
on this four hundred
acres
each one a chore
a favor to the next
a little drop of
theme
love poem is weird
but you had that day one demeanor
I already knew your knees
from somewhere
so bold to call it country
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