In the valley of the west fork there is a little church.
With a little cemetery with a little baby.
He is ours. Another son lost...
This an infant only to endure one week in this plain.
I have a gift for you...
A flower from his grave...fragile.
It is as fragile as this ancient place.
Carry it gently as you leave footsteps on the banks of the kickapoo.
You will fish better for it. I promise...
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