Sunset Rubdown -- "Silver Moons"
Confetti floats away
like dead leaves in the wagon's wake.
There were parties here in my honor
until you sent me away.
Now silver moons belong to you.
Passing the baton
from the old mare to the fawn
it was out of line but it was fun
and didn't you love the part
right before the dawn?
But now silver moons belong to
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