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I remember when I was granny's little boy and the world was my spinning top. Stories came from the radio and my six-shooter was a toy. Roy and Dale were my heroes. Cracker Jacks were a nickel. A Band-Aid would make my boo-boo better. I would laugh until my belly ached. But that all ended when granny went to sleep and the angels put cotton into my ears, so she couldn't hear. Because daddy came home from the war in a wooden box. But! yet I still talk to granny and daddy at night, with a short-stack and a bowl of wheat. 


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