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A thorn in my side My brittle thoughts Weighing me down Drowning me out   Bury my fears Until moss hides them away

There should be a word For the open road   You’ve been tailgating others around This town where you were born An impatient game of pac-man Where you are the hungry ghost   And everything you know of others You learned from their bumper stickers While wondering how the activists And theologians Would ever even see you behind them Through the decades of peeling vinyl Sometimes catchy Sometimes funny Sometimes true But who are they?...