As I wind down the pines
it's the lines on your face
playing on your face
Without thinking so much
as abandoning thought
I went through open country
over water meadows streams
lakes and wires and roosts in reeds
to a nest in the hole of
this dead
tree.
To play without stopping or pause
not for silence not for applause
not without thinking
and thinking's abandoning thought
As I wind down the pines
it's the lines on your face
playing on your face
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https://hudba.zoznam.sk/spravy/19-10-2017-zomrel-gord-downie-spevak-kanadskej-skupiny-the-tragically-hip/
http://kultura.sme.sk/c/2282218/Koncerty-Live-8-sa-zacali-aj-na-druhej-strane-Atlantiku-v-Kanade-a-USA.html
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