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Husky MAG
Grain silo ready, pointed toward you
Ready to do the things grain silos were made to do
You don’t want no grain silo, which really isn’t fun
Standing like an obelisk in the prairie sun
You prefer the city types,
You burn and rave like coals
You got towns to choose from
And miles of telephone poles
So you can eat your asphalt, I will eat my dust
Towns fade away, but grain silos never rust
The fact will always get to you, through countless suits of armor
That you gave up and left behind this poor kindly farmer
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