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Resting Place (Lucas Austin)

Said, Are you listening To dying swallows? Don't they strike you bitter cold? I will come, shut them out And shine a light inside this hole Although my western hands Seem uncertain They mean to find a way Rest once more Shut your door See my body to its rightful place My body in its resting place It was honest Abraham And this cracked, red pavement He did taught me to come home Are you here, boy To sell oats Or drink yourself into a corpse? Oh must I long remain In wretched slumber 'Fore I taste your lips once more? How much time must I waste Before my body's in its rightful place? Before my body's in its resting place? Before my body's in its resting place?