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Brother left the mine in November strung out one foot in the grave i thought i heard him crying on the bathroom floor it's hard to recognize the brave the smell of the blue vinyl bus seats the hum of the engine below the rhythm of the telephone poles going by and the endless broken road brother you just can't be everywhere and no you can't please everyone and so let go of your aching heart and learn to love your place some things up ahead are illusions could say the same of the things left behind the dirty black soot in the grit of your teeth and the sirens in your mind