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Depth

by Swords

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  • Depth
    Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    My sophomore LP "Depth". Make some noise for the old school. Play this loud.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Depth via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

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1.
Exile Song 00:40
Exile Song Land of bear and land of eagle Land that gave us birth and blessing Land that calls us ever homeward We will go home across the mountains We will go home We will go home We will go home across the mountains Depth (not sure if you guys wanna talk about this but...)
2.
That Kinda Week I’ll start this off by saying my next records probly never dropping just to tempt fate in case the trendy kids are watching I don’t wanna box it into the best thing that never was the let down of the year, here it is, hit the drums Midwest, Bassed out, the bastard sons of rock and roll fucking nasty on the cut like doing triple shots of Skol as long as the barman can keep the pour steady we raw and ready, self production coming heavy, it’s on I spit like a cancer survivor, this the kemo lyrical therapy buried deep inside the stylo With a burn of the sick, lyrics legit or counterfeit tricks to trick y’all into thinking that I really give a shit but I don’t, these poem are just to keep it clean, yo Razorblade salvation for my Rage Against Machine flow Living the dream since sixteen, I kick it for the love while I’m picking pieces of my life up out the dust My girl left me, about a week or so ago now I’m trying to stay cool and amputate the soul Confusion is the state and the bills are running late but I ain’t mad about it really, I just chock it up to fate and let it go… I keep my mind tightrolled, wrapped up in rubber bands unless I got some fucking whiskey then I knock some fucking jams They say music soothes that savage beast, well maybe personally I’m from the school of rock and roll like ray davies Meaning, I speak my mind with the rhyme and have a time loose lips, piss and vinegar, lets run it down the line It’s what I got, GOT, cool, now throw a shot down it’s a holy war, man, I’m keeping God from coming round Never been pretty as such, I never fucked a perfect girl I’m just trying to set fire to ya perfect fucking world Lacing joints with profanity whenever making statements cuz I could give a fuck less if radio stations play this On the playlist of ya iPod touch or car tuner to me, this music’s stupid like consumers Or chicas milling rumor, hearts infected with tumors it’s 2012, I wish the end was coming sooner This the end of my rope, ain’t no punch to the joke a slow suicide, fuck it, like the reason I smoke But that’s the reason I’m dope, every line is my last breath and I come across honest when I’m spitting this rap text Stumbled in with the spins, spit smelling of Pabst Blue Kick the Cobaine cure, that’s who I’m tipping my cap to the reason I rap dude, fuck you and Labat Blue it’s been that kinda week, man music to crash to It’s been that kinda week, man, you know what I mean where ya ex-girlfriend keeps on haunting ya dreams It’s been that kinda weak man you know how I feel Cuz on the real to real, I’m just trying to deal It’s been that kinda week, man, you know what I mean where ya ex-girlfriend keeps on haunting ya dreams It’s been that kinda weak man you already know So lets do something cool, and keep a piece of my soul Let it go… Let it go… Let it go… Let her go…
3.
Depth 03:46
Depth Swords: I’m having moment like Mister Miagi in the nation’s capital Playing Tetris with reality, focus the actual Instead of the abstract, backpacked in chemical terms leftover heartbreak hotel treatments for the chemical burns Don’t be concerned with the who, what, when, why prescribed for your minds eye, my how time flies Flock like ravens, stand like Eric Draven in a murder of crows Call me Sir Swords, that’s my purpose in flows Expose the chivalry, maintain the focus in my delivery Rebuild the Byzantine, pour the poison, live the dream A mezzanine, mixture of better things and severed seems Cut out the stuffing, to figure out who’s really bluffing It’s all or nothing these days, ultimatums help the therapy moments of clarity for the self hate, choke the Carradine I guarantee nothing but a life worth trying for a matador against a minotaur, yo whachu think the fires for I set it And what is life but a shadow I remember it in… Megan Johns: Scraping for the change that I can be sane clutching to the memories as time slips away If it happens now, its over then what is life but a shadow I remember it in Depth Swords: And what is life but a shadow I remember it in… Look, nobody gives a damn what you dream about, remember? I choose adventure and the splendor you see in flaring tempers. The dying embers cast a shadow across a sad state lashed together with your spiked belt and my fat lace Adidas worn thin from the miles of my old songs A journey I make alone, a wager that I stake my soul on So I suggest you hold on, proceed in caution, in fashion the captain strapped to the mast, my Passion Ulysses Reefs to navigate and these sirens keep calling me but I left my cell on silent during the bliss of a calm breeze Falling in love with broken hearts sutured, explosions approaching, eroding the Trojan to give birth to the seed Turbulant seas and horizons uncertain so I stick to versing uncertain sermons for the person who gets me without trying to match the key I’m singing in so hey, Lonely, how you been? lets begin… And what is life but a shadow I remember it in... Depth
4.
The Girl in the Yellow Jacket I caught her out the corner of my eye down at the cafe You couldn’t miss her, brunette came in with a cadre of pretty hipster chicks but there was none like she with that bright yellow jacket hanging down to her knees She ordered a coffee, no room for cream Sipped it, smiling, swear to god it was meant for me See, I was struck but I had some work due by three and the clock on the comp’s telling me two fifty And by the time I was done, she was nowhere to be see so I’m looking for her up and down Walnut Street Probably shoulda said “fuck it”, at least got her name and I’m talking to my friend and I’m trying to explain What she looked like, he said he didn’t really know but the next time I see her I should give it a go Have you seen her? The next time I saw her was a rock and roll show She was posted stage right next to a couple of bros But it didn’t really look like she knew em a bit I was about to make my move when then this dumb kid barrels into me, and starts making a scene Ended up spilling his beer all over my jeans Now it looks like I just took a leak in my pants Shoulda decked him right there for spoiling my chance But instead I dipped outside to let it dry Have a couple of squares before making the college try I got boxed in by my friend’s ex, she cornered me talking all in my face, drunk and disorderly And by the time I got back, yellow jacket was gone now I’m walking round the club singing a Pharcyde song Asked at the bar, they said she left with the band Leaving me sitting here last call, God damn… Have you seen her? So it’s the end of the week and I’m hella relieved Got one thing left to do, get my license renewed So I’m in line at the DMV, four fifty three when I turn my head and who should I see? There she be in the tag line for the cashier Check it, lemme explain the situation right here If I lose my spot, then I’m missing my shot and that late renewal fee is fifty bucks I gotta drop Thought about it for a minute, I ain’t letting her slip Ducked under the ropes and caught her by the exit “Excuse me for being up front but I gotta be, and you been running through my mind all week” “And yo you seem really cool and I know you don’t know me but would you be interested in either coffee or tea?” She musta dug the direct approach in my stride saying “I’m free tomorrow, how about around five?” Wrote her number on the back of my hand Then she hopped in her mazda coup and jammed I was feeling pretty good about it on the ride home About to put her number into my phone But see here’s the catch, it was raining pretty hard and I musta smeared the ink when I got in the car Now I’m trying to figure out if that’s a four or a nine Man, I knew I shoulda plugged it in my cell at the time Swearing in traffic… and punching the wheel… Hoping to catch her again, but here’s the deal. I ain’t seen her since, man ain’t that backward so holler at me if you’re that girl in the yellow jacket… Have you seen her?
5.
Hell and High Water Swords: Conversation killed the moment the kick snare combination bestills the omens Caressing every fret, a world from the text you once knew and loved, buzzing with the feedback Keep it clean, Jack, jack me into the audio it’s a grand theft, and papa know best more or less, the rest thresholding the death threats I’m stressed with less sex, the doc’s saying bed rest But baby, I was born to run, and we can talk remedies when the tour is done Load up the drums and bass and I’m barrelling through while these pretty indie rockers just stare at they shoes I’m in the mix at full clip, Christmas carolling dues with my grooves fluid same way a theremin do Wearing a derelict mood, bumping inherited tunes the remix, yeah, and what we taring it to Back seat of the backbeat, the basics of the basement tracing fame and fortune, distortion of the faceless A brick in the wall, a face at the bar playing guitar, making my mark while I’m waiting to start In the flesh of ya twilight, pushing it deeper than the depth of emotion you can fit in a speaker Impressions and fevers dialed up at the tone In a brooding message that I’ll check when I make it home Megan Johns: Find yourself an island, baby give yourself a chance (a chance, a chance) Find yourself a sunset, maybe leave it up to chance (to chance, to chance) Swords: Let’s dance to the bitter, high plains a drifter a prophecy fulfilling the glitz and the glitter and glam sip the mixture next to the mic stand fronting the hype man, exciting, a live band And it’s live, man, LIFE, and the blanks can fill in whatever gets blindsided by the lights on the ceiling Feelings you can catch, I’m grasping a stress ball but that’s between me, you and that store with the Les Paul Yes, y’all, I guess y’all, we in it together with the drums from the one who put the dirt in your feathers Greasy, it keep me belief free, it’s easy long as hell and high water stay out of the deep freeze A midwest minute, my expected tone and I ain’t in it for a visit, yo, express the poem and I flex the bone, texting home, yes its on headed west alone, bumping Methadrone Megan Johns: Find yourself an island, baby give yourself a chance (a chance, a chance) Find yourself a sunset, maybe leave it up to chance (to chance, to chance)
6.
This Machine Kills Fascists This machine kills fascists, that’s my fanatic enrollment into the city we built brick by brick through performance Scenes of virtue in the streets that we hustle to work through garbage water flows through gutters giving birth to the sterile environments, with no dreams for retirement distorted, contorted and fashioned into a science Silence reigns golden where united we stand as artisans of the noise spreading like cracks through a dam. Back of the hand, know it as slight, the light of the candles flickers behind the background noise that we sample broadcasting live from the underbelly intelligent grassroots in our own right, tag my name as a delegate From the depths we swan from to Olympian heights across the paragraphs of rough drafts and instrumental advice It ignites through the night like wildfire through grass leaving the snakes charred remains in the light of a flash Cuz this is our land, let it never be their’s don’t let the money change the way that you flipping the snares Beyond the cars and jewelry, beyond the credit accounts when push comes to shove, they will edit you out Down to my last cent, symbolic running a fever tag the Woody Guthrie slogan across the side of my speakers Set the tempo to nine sev so the flow can get it in yo and for every door they shut we smash another fucking window hip hop...
7.
What’s Good for You Swords: What’s good for you, yeah… Trials I tribulate, I never hesitate, subject to predicate I levitate and medicate a better state, I educate and entertain ya brain, constraining my tough talk consigned with my cosign to wash away the chalk On sidewalks where the nighthawks meet up to chill like sixteen cups of diner coffee’s what it really feel like Sometimes there ain’t no sunshine right to fit her jetting interstates, singing along with Mister Withers Mix some bitters in my glass, a splash to splatter to the indie chicks with tattoos and spastic attitudes Flattering, casual when the pathogens lace my garage rock persona over dirty drums breaks You don’t know me, honey, and I ain’t with this tavern but I can span your chasm with my sarcasm As it happens, see, papa raised a rolling stone and I’m addicted to every note on this Epiphone When me and Tone set it, we keep your earbuds eclectic even though the tickertape parade is theoretic at this point, play for loose coins and singles but the love of the music’s really what we truly sing to A fling to flex the focus of the dope, a hot mess and the morning like another town, God Bless… Tonie Sadler: You have to learn to love what’s good for you Waking up in a pile of shit just to watch the sun go down Old school beat sounds good to you like a lethal weapon mugshot shatter to the ground then you watch it go down… Swords and Tonie: Motivation picks me up where you left off, A hack and a cough to top me off with that hot sauce on my chicken wings what a way to make a living A simple set invention, a bland new beginning Don’t hold me back the flow that you let on a simple mind can adjust and so live on Cuz yo, I get on, mics the type I sit on, what I spit on to make us the kind of clique you wanna throw ya times on Tonie: Oh money, you got me by the neck and toe, solid stuck and froze Please release me, let me free So I can spread my soul, into the world unknown Tonie: You have to learn to love what’s good for you Waking up in a pile of shit just to watch the sun go down Old school beat sounds good to you like a lethal weapon mugshot shatter to the ground then you watch it go down…
8.
Evil Empire 03:55
Evil Empire Hunger Games for snakes, a stranglehold taking the nation set it off in the ‘80s under Reagan’s administration After the impeachment scandals at Watergate they started building an empire state but wait wait It took four years to incubate while the doom was set on countdown clock warfare from a Soviet threat Meanwhile in Nicaragua they were thinking differently so we armed nationals to take down el presidente Central American terrorism gets pushed by agendas set in motion by who, George Bush Read the books not the blood money coming from Texas even Reagan caught a slug when they sent him a message Don’t fuck with the fam, unless you wanna accord engineering the crack epidemic throughout New York That’s how things work when you’re on Capital Hill the same people killing children who are passing the bills It’s like a kitchen with the same cooks working the grill the same people planting bombs who got Welstone killed Get real if you don’t see the Empire’s rise Political players with dollar signs in their eyes It’s an Evil Empire (gimme the loot, gimme the loot) So what, you thought we wouldn’t notice? when the towers crumbled like they were full of explosives the fact that 9/11 effectively changed the national focus to foreign warfare making the situation hopeless While the media manufactures a catalyst for fear I get refunds on my taxes during election year See I support the troops but not the people in charge cuz they use parlor tricks so they stay keeping their jobs Pumping the popularity for the prez by blowing buildings? that’s a bitch move, like bombing schools fulla childrens But that’s how they get the funding, so they serving their purpose for the oil contracts Saddam was selling to Europe Scratching the surface of ya patriotic vision Bin Laden started out as a CIA tactician During the ‘80s when Iraq went to war with Iran We sold Saddam the arms that were used for the job Training terrorists to overthrow governments Democrats, Republicans, they all fuck with it Going hand in hand, from plan to plan scam to scam, damn the man, I’m saying damn the man It’s an Evil Empire (gimme the loot, gimme the loot)
9.
TMFJ 03:16
Tonight the night and y’all are my family S.DOT making my commentary honest and candid, we have arrived to get inside the vibe of ya fantasy proud of nothing except our own insanity I jam on beats live, five bucks at the door and you can cop a copy from your local record store Verbally affecting your perception of getting raw set with uncut truth mixed with raw metaphors The man with the mic, I came to snap raps that’s right I’m tight like the straps on your backpack So pass it back, I know ya sick of the rapper act I grab a pad and spit pieces of me into this habitat Tragic like the havoc of a bender at Mardi Gras Rapper with the magic, just remember I started raw Stacked with sarcastic quips and heavy hearted songs Check me out y’all and if not, it’s just a party y’all Cuz like it or not, if the spot pop, I’ll be there after slamming five shots and three beers Leave emcees scared of going after my live act and when you get to hell, tell Michael Jackson I want my style back This… Right… here’s the jam It’s hype… SO here’s the plan with ya beer in ya hand, toss it up in the sky and get em high y’all get em up get em up! Get em High! Yeah, and it’s a throwback sound Ain’t nothing too smart deep or profound It’s just some rap sound to play in the background while you lay ya mac down, the boys are back in town Swords, serving for the mic division Struggle flip the funk up with a ninja’s percission Kicking intricate riddims, getting lifted, a vision keep it hot like a ninety degree day in the kitchen Quit ya bitchin’, man, the big kids came to play the whiskey sipping bastard stumble walking this way Say what you will, I’ll be talking this way until the break of dawn, yeah, or til the lottery pays With the skills to pay the bills, it gets ills on the real to make a mill with drum fills But it doesn’t really matter, it’s a party tonight so put ya hands in the air if your feeling alright This… Right… here’s the jam It’s hype… SO here’s the plan with ya beer in ya hand, toss it up in the sky and get em high y’all get em up get em up! Get em High! THIS RIGHT… HERE’S THE… THIS RIGHT… HERE’S THE… jam (jam, jam jam) THIS RIGHT… HERE’S THE… THIS RIGHT… HERE’S THE… This right here’s The MuthaFuckingJam Hand up…
10.
Wine and Roses (and My Favorite Drink) They musta caught me blindside, my life was a blur the boy in the bottle ain’t been awake since the third Head sweaty, waters broken like levies Collecting tax from the state in a rain of confetti And words are the solace, a poultice, a promise depending on what gets accomplished Honest above all else, I show the real Call it the wrong doing of keeping it real It’s my Achilles heel, but this is kill or be killed so if I lace the beat right, then the thrill’ll be healed Hip Hop’s a mess, and relate through the stress denote it as love, and demote it to hugs Baby doll gave up, can’t say I blame her This records a decimal, subtract the remainder Pain fer a buck, plus a penny for tips for the girl in the front row licking her lips And my favorite drink be the one you buying for me like you see something in me that I’m trying to be Dying to please, just a piece of the moment that remind me of the days of wine and roses And my favorite drink be the one you buying for me like you see something in me that I’m trying to be Dying to breath, just a piece of the omen it remind me of the days of wine and roses (roses) And they don’t know me and I reckon they’ll never get past the first impression that precede the endeavor Life’s a treasure, I wouldn’t change it for shit unless it was never picking up these cigarettes Daily pack a day habit lay the gravel to voice over the fast tempo of a slow joint From this park bench with a guitar on my lap I watch the world fly past, yo I started from scratch Got by off my charm, little help from my friends Shots with Isaac, drove home, knocking the Bends I spit different, my shit will never be pop passed the cliche carapace of saving hip hop It’ll be fine, don’t wast ya time crying or pining for the summer of ‘69 At depths like this we’re liable to implode So I shut my eyes tight and dive for the front row And my favorite drink be the one you buying for me like you see something in me that I’m trying to be Dying to please, just a piece of the moment that remind me of the days of wine and roses And my favorite drink be the one you buying for me like you see something in me that I’m trying to be Dying to breath, just a piece of the omen it remind me of the days of wine and roses We living in the days of smoke and mirrors drifting in the haze to choke the tears I play to the hearts with open beers and express it on the mic with broken cheer There I chill, fist fulla bills destined for the till when you take the next seat and you tell me I’m ill Couldn’t appreciate it more, love, we one and the same even if in ten minutes, I won’t remember your name You see my aim in the brain, here to entertain educate, elevate, expressions of game Maintain for the heads who want it seven ways from Sunday to one day, we’ll see better days Wine and roses, life and times, the focus, hope is sunny, scummy, beneath the shades, it’s lovely Rose colored, I’ll catch you in the next life here’s to gratitude, I’ll take my whiskey on ice And my favorite drink be the one you buying for me like you see something in me that I’m trying to be Dying to please, just a piece of the moment that remind me of the days of wine and roses And my favorite drink be the one you buying for me like you see something in me that I’m trying to be Dying to breath, just a piece of the omen it remind me of the days of wine and roses (roses, roses, roses)
11.
Shoulda Had Ya Back And I shoulda had ya back but I didn’t And I should want you back but I don’t I dunno, darling, if that means I suck, then I do and the next time we meet, you can say ya “fuck yous” And I shoulda had ya back but I didn’t And I should want you back but I don’t It ain’t for me to justify the ol’ love her and leave her But even though I didn’t try, you didn’t either I keep my keepsakes locked in a box painted yellow a menajerie of ghosts like seeing Pac at Cochella Mementos, memories, sorted with a deep pain similar to the ring I used to keep on my keychain They saying bygones but I can’t quite let it go yet the monkey on my back keeps waking me up with cold sweats Hating you with every breath drawn, dusk to past dawn what I can’t figure here, darling, is how it last long Maybe I should pass on the party, fix my life shit but hanging in downtown seems to loosen up these tight lips Using my mic grip to paint pictures in flavors various capers and unsanitary saviors Pretending to be a player when really I got a battered mood Just and average dude who had an aptitude to flatter you And I don’t know where you are, and I don’t even wanna maybe next year we’ll be rid of the trauma And I shoulda had ya back but I didn’t And I should want you back but I don’t I dunno, darling, if that means I suck, then I do and the next time we meet, you can say ya “fuck yous” And I shoulda had ya back but I didn’t And I should want you back but I don’t It ain’t for me to justify the ol’ love her and leave her But even though I didn’t try, you didn’t either You were my lady in the lake, stilling the shakes in my palm the balm, the chap on my lips, the one keeping me strong through the blood and dust of travels and uphill battles the noose at the gallows, the jelly fish swimming the shallows I calm my pace to a slow stride, walking a low tide to skirt you with the help of friends standing on both sides The hope died, but this my town, I’m sipping Phoenix Down Heart hanging heavy with the head that wears the crown This my birth rite, best believe I’m reclaiming that Your man? I can’t blame the cat, there ain’t no shame in that We all need love, and you’re a cool ass girl, doll and once upon a time I’da give you the world, doll But things change quicker than you expecting em to and we can’t go back to who we used to be at twenty two So when I said I didn’t try, that don’t mean I don’t regret it And saying you didn’t either may be in need of an edit But look, I said it, I meant it, understand or resent it chances are you’ll never hear this anyway and that’s splendid See, I wrote it for me, there ain’t no audience intended depending on whether or not you give a fuck how things ends And I shoulda had ya back but I didn’t And I should want you back but I don’t And I shoulda had ya back but I didn’t And I should want you back but I don’t (here we go) And I shoulda had ya back but I didn’t And I should want you back but I don’t I dunno, darling, if that means I suck, then I do and the next time we meet, you can say ya “fuck yous” And I shoulda had ya back but I didn’t And I should want you back but I don’t It ain’t for me to justify the ol’ love her and leave her But even though I didn’t try, you didn’t either
12.
217 04:11
217 (One two one two) (I guess this is it… I love y’all) Arrivederci, honey, you know the goings been good A little rough around the cut but, yo, it roll like it should Songs of fire and ice, make sure the science is tight somewhere on the off chance that the Mayans were right Finish the session, mix and master the weapons settled back to do impressions as Armageddon sets in This has been your host for the evening, Swords Thanks for all the support and the rounds of applause So keep it clapping while I’m waxing on wax at Kopi I promise the next record will be much less mopy Really though, I’m just along for the ride Living my life on the spare for the nickels and dimes I dine fine, work hard, live fast and play it fair Forbear these snares to avoid a Red Scare Truth is, beats aside, I’m really just a rapper Walking my shame back to the happily ever after Getting promiscuous, the style askew meticulous my beats are different than the latest, gimme a witness For the confidence in style that is getting me paid for the confidence in spit which is getting me laid (217 baby) (that’s the place where I’m at) (Arrivederci, honey, you know the goings been good) (217 baby) (that’s the place where I’m at) (And all these songs can stand as matters of fact) The year of transition, thank God I recorded it So much for ambition, yo I say we forfeit it But I’m on a damn mission, the world, to orbit it Going by my Christian, final stage of metamorphisis I saw the future in a bottle of Avion headed up to Chicago for my grandma’s funeral Now I spit it for her ghost with a steady arm Keeping it literary, giving you less of the usual Unique like New Yor, keep the beats with an ill score Passion, skill or the ideals you kill for Must be something in the fucking reason I rap While the rest of the world was appeasing the whack I take it back sixty eight, tracing ya face playing the ace in the deck except I’m making a break somewhere south of the border, maybe west of the sun so sing it, baby, I was born to run And sometimes, it seems uncertain But the truth is, baby doll, I’ve been working Making excuses, for these sermons as such cuz in reality I’m just another person you touch It’s all it’s cracked up to be, now I’m shacked up Passed out while I get a back rub Swords, so put it up and this is the midwest Yes to the yes, this has been (depth) (217 baby) (that’s the place where I’m at) (Arrivederci, honey, you know the goings been good) (217 baby) (that’s the place where I’m at) (And all these songs can stand as matters of fact)

about

A fender bender of hip hop, rock and roll, whiskey shots, road trips, hell and high water, Depth is my sophomore LP. Never thought I would see the day it came to life.

credits

released November 1, 2013

All songs written and composed by Shannon Swords*
All songs recorded and produced by Shannon Swords at Cottage Recordings*

*except for: TMFJ -written and composed by Swords, Faust and Greenlee
**except for: TMFJ - recorded by Caleb Means at Boombox Studios

Mixed by Caleb Means at Boombox Studios
Mastered by Paul Chastain

Please see each song for individual performance credits

Dedicated to Clara Alain Meinrath-Swords.

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Swords Eugene, Oregon

Hailing from the Pacific Northwest of the United States, my name is Swords. I'm an emcee/producer Raised on rock and roll and roots rock reggae, I've attempted to blaze a new trail for myself through the avenues of hip hop. In my time I've opened for acts such as Brother Ali, the Nappy Roots, Braille and Illogic. Check out the songs... ... more

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