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Enola Fall
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Every Prick Has His Day
Still fighting back
over the same ground
But I called you up
'cause I want you to see
a strange object I've found
Buried in the sand
between the sea and the land
As the sun turned the snow
into sparks in my hand
I know that you say
Every prick has his day
When I finally pull myself out of the salt
and the spray
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