End of the drove
Where do they go?
All those people
When the bar closes?
All those lost people
All those lonely souls
Bitter as litter
That blows
When the field knows
The cattle in rows
Filled, eating the bar
Chewing the cud
Drifting back home
In their droves
But where do they go?
Another bar opens
And they hang there
Like pegs
On a line with no
Clothes
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