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Wakan Tanka Waits For Me

Taking the mother road east Seemed like a rewind trip Into the dreams of west bound Men and ladies who left Chi Town for Santa Monica; they Sought the sunny shore to rest. Sunset at our back door down Somewhere in Arizona The passenger trains replaced By cargo trailers never to stop At wide clips of towns built only For fuel or Indian trinkets. In the distance a tee pee Settled between branches of Mesquite or salt cedar…

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