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When The Paint Dries

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Thirty years ago when grandma left the house had fresh paint and the shutters were hung but the birds were quiet The radio was playing a fiddle with broken strings and grandma was dressed in calico as rain fell from heaven But the birds were quiet as grandma was laid to rest in field of stones as I cried   kneeling as I prayed And now my wife of many years has left the stage of her

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