Few Words For A Country/Western Song; Note To The 1981 Version Of Myself

They trampled on your delicate heart, and they did you wrong.

And when you talk about it so much and so very long---

the same old, tiresome theme, predictable and repetitious---

it takes on an existence of its own, foul and pernicious.

Still, you spin out your rages, quite unsparingly undaunted;--

and life becomes a dread dilapidation---eerie, haunted.



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