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Jack

Jack went out one stormy day
To see where his feet would go,
They took him from his sleeping town
Across land both high and low,
They took him through the velvet streets
Where men walked on their toes,
And down the slopes
Where bottled hell
And blind men lie in rows.

Jack walked through the treacle swamps
and crossed the salt dry plains,
He passed a house where tall, thin dogs
Pulled on their iron chains,
he heard the songs of seed germ girls
Who warmed the frozen fields,
And as Jack walked
He felt the corn
Push up his tired heels.

He saw the heathens' heather hills,
He watched a boiling sea,
He met a man with wooden hands
Carved from an old fruit tree.
The old man said he dreamt at night
Of blossom roots and knives,
And that night when
Jack went to sleep
He dreamt of damson pies.

Jack walked out one stormy day
To see where his feet would go,
They took him north they took him east
But never took him home.


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