Further from my widowed homeTake the road that sets into the sunWaiting for my skin and bone to returnAnd see what I've becomeSummer has not yet been here though my days are longTake me back to when the night was youngAnd another song was sungWhat of all those pretty talesThe ones that took me to this door?Is it comfort in the siren's wailThe comfort upon this wooden floor?
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i will remain, matthew and the atlas