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Five Fifty-one
par
Bruce Cockburn
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Knots in my muscles, too much traffic in my mind Traffic in my mind, traffic in my mind Knots in my muscles, too much traffic in my mind It was five fifty-one, gray light creeping through the blind Small source of comfort, dawn was breaking in the air Breaking in the air, breaking in the air Small source of comfort, dawn was breaking in the air You don't take these things for granted when you think of what's in need of repair Out on the sidewalk there was diesel on the breeze Diesel on the breeze, diesel on the breeze Out on the sidewalk there was diesel on the breeze They're always getting away with something when they think there's no one there to see Middle of the night cops came knocking on my door Knocking on my door, knocking at my door Middle of the night cops come knocking at my door I still don't know what my neighbor called them for Knots in my muscles, too much traffic in my mind Traffic in my mind, traffic in my mind Knots in my muscles, too much traffic in my mind It was five fifty-one, gray light creeping through the blind
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Ton pseudo sera publié. Laisses les champs vide pour rester anonyme.
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