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I Reckon
by
John Hartford
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Lyrics
Who's this demon they call commercial Whose eyes blink and little bells ring as it gathers in the pot And stares balefully at it's audience of struggling young artists We're all thinkin' commirsh come here I reckon Who's this demon called commercial walkin' in the shiny black grooves Molder classify and restricting those that are already restricted And caged within a melody I reckon Had I not made this record I still woulda made these songs I'da sung them to my family my friends And softly to myself I reckon These are some of things that have drifted by my eyes Seeped into my ears now passed from my mouth Let the demon have mercy I reckon
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