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❝ Fourteen songs of disarming simplicity: voice, acoustic guitar, and some sporadic bass lines, no percussion, no surrounding arrangements to speak of:
❝ If I could stand like a rusty old man in his armor, if I could ride the steed that he rode in his time, I would turn his head away to the river and let him wander to the meadow grass, wild and free for everyone to see
❝ The church bell chimed ‘til it rang twenty-nine times for each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald. The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down of the big lake they call Gitchee Gumee, Superior they said never gives up her dead when the gales of November came early.
❝ This old airport’s got me down, it’s no earthly good to me, and I’m stuck here on the ground as cold and drunk as I can be, you can’t jump a jet plane like you can a freight train, so I’d best be on my way in the early morning rain
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