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I’ve seen those tough as oaks
weep like willows
even the hardest thugs can have tear stained pillows
most can’t see the forest for the trees
He was seven and I was six, my Brendon Gallacher.He was Irish and I was Scottish, my Brendon Gallacher.His father was in prison; he was a cat burglar.
Seriously I’m really very cool
When I went to school
With the headmaster
I drafed the rules.
We studied my hair
This is my story.It is mine alone because I am the one who needsto tell it.I am the one who is still here,no longer stage right but
Tomorrow has your name on itIt's written up there in the skyAs you set out on a journeyin search of the How? and the Why?