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Indian Larry
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by
Ironhorse Writer
© 9/5/2004
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For in that moment he stood alone
High atop the crest
Upon a chariot of thunder
His soul was laid to rest
Within this mortal journey
Our paths were not to cross
Yet, hollow wailed the wind we shared
Upon hearing of its loss
“They” say he was eccentric
“They” who claim to see
He, I believe, found Freedom
In non-conformity
Genius comes in many forms
In his hands a gifted tool
Never is it fabricated
Only taught through Old School
A Righteous Road lies ahead
The gates are open wide
Awaiting a chariot of thunder
Ride, Indian Larry...Ride
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