Count my inheritance
at year's end
no hint of presence
no message shall send
we're on our own on this side
so goes the battle
So goes the ride
a little silver, no gold
and this love hate I've got on
with lucre's getting old
not like I'm wanting
was expecting much
just another one of
the kinds of straws I clutch
gird up I tell myself
time to begin
this is your inheritance
to stand up again and again
maybe there's a golden treasure
to find in it all yet
keep that one close to my heart
while I cast my net
what
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