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Foxes in Fiction
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Into the Fields
Ripped from the ground
Car arrives at location remote
Put on your coat
You'll never know
I'll cross the fields and part the crops
Bend all the stalks
We're waiting on encoded signs, hidden won't harm
They won't disarm
Been here before
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Cold winter stasis will not thaw
It broke my jaw
And from the fields
You feel the pattern laid below
How far it goes
You'll wait and see, when seasons change we'll leave our coats
We'll clear our throats
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