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What did it take

For you shed the skin

Of this small town?

What magic or deception

Flattery or trickery

Fooled the border wolves

And led you to the handle

The knife to slice the strings?

I’ll take the mirror

Shatter the glass

And reassemble a face

Like yours

Find all the pieces forged through time

The detritus of revolution

And mold them

A waxwork of an image of

The you we couldn’t be

To mesmerise the eye

And let the wind-borne fog

Take us far from the shores

Of small town thought.