J. Tillman vacilando territory

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On that five day drive
Through the pain and the mourning
All our plans were sitting on the sky
Like throwing fire outside the window
Breaking bulls over our railroad
'Til we couldn't hit the kill zone if we tried
The golden desert floor
Is holding up to heaven
The space it will be tending for a while
The way you spoke about the unknown
Shook my twenty-five year old bones
Make unsure I was someone's only son
You're my, you're my brother
You're my, you're my brother
You're my, you're my brother
You're my, you're my brother
Not completely positive that the line: Breaking bulls over our railroad is exactly that. I tried and tried listening, straining, but I couldn't be sure.

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