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Truce

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You ain’t gon believe this, chief, but
I got a real ol soft spot for ya.

Naw I mean it. Never done much
in the way of sharin and carin
but Dean and that angel both—
I’s startin t’think you hung the
moon, time we got clear of this place.

Oh I know he exaggerates.

But… both of em says you whooped the Devil,
right inside your mind. Angel says
you got a forgivin soul, n’Dean…
well, Dean says you’s a bitch but it’s
how he says it—affectionate-like.

Naw I ain’t never had no brother,
not by that kinda blood anyways.
Brothers in other blood. Spilt, shared.

Naw, man, what the hell’s wrong with you?
Tell me somethin, stretch, you been hungry
at all since you rolled in here? Well…

Strictly on donors, same’s I told
Dean. Bag blood, horrible tastin
but gets the job done. More or less.

Yeah I know. Easy done, judgin
a man for his hist’ry. Lucky
you, I’m a forgivin soul too.