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  Stone Mountain  
 

High upon the grey stones of the granite precipice
Reflects a lighted image of the strength and pride of the Old South.
Gathering to the hymns of Lynnard Skynnard,
Shouting out a deep river guttural.

  Wonder what the poor people are doing tonight,
Those who are locked in the glimmer of a skyscaper's shadow.
Free Spirits roam this abandoned drive-in theatre,
And we watch their images flicker across the ancient stones of the mountain
       
       
 
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