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 the three men I admire most: The Father, Son and the Holy Ghost

 caught the last train for the coast

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the Spring, as the days get long

Graduation approaches and cars filled with teenagers

race through empty streets after dark 

 

In the Spring,  small Midwestern towns embrace 

produce and children 

but each year less of both 

 

Each year  they export corn and livestock 

also their restless children

most of these never return 

 

Westward Expansion kept moving while the

interstate highways simply sped up the departure

on the move,  toward the Coasts 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


lyrics above- Don Mclean

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