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Americana / Alt Country


What did we miss along the way While we were healing ourselves every day? From the scrapes I must say we are the walking wounded SO endlessly focused on ourselves, we missed the next train to somewhere else. Someone to take us away. We are the walking wounded So many things will shape who we are, for fear we never go quite as far as where we're suppose to be. Or is it just me? Or are we all locked away. We are the walking wounded. Jaded and shielded all of the time. Living on pills, thrills or more wine. You can bet your last dime we are the walking wounded. 2005 Chris Jackson

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