 small towns, crawling out of their green shirts. Tubercular towns, coughing a little in the dawn. And the church, there is always a church with its natty spire and the vestibule. That's where they whisper, zzz, zzz, zzz, zzz, zzz. How many codes for a wireless whisper and corn flatter than it should be, and those chits of leaves gadding with every wind. Small towns from Connecticut to Maine, zzz, zzz, zzz, zzz. This recording is in the public domain. Train Window by Lola Ridge, redforlibrivox.org by Bruce Gachuk. Small towns, crawling out of their green shirts. Tubercular towns, coughing a little in the dawn. And the church, there is always a church with its natty spire and the vestibule. That's where they whisper, zzz, zzz, zzz. How many codes for a wireless whisper and corn flatter then it should be, and those chits of leaves gadding with every wind. Small towns from Connecticut to Maine, zzz, zzz. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Train Window by Lola Ridge, redforlibrivox.org by Carolyn Buckley. Small towns crawling out of their green shirts, tubercular towns coughing a little in the dawn, and the church, there's always a church, with its natty spire and the vestibule, that's where they whisper, tss tss, how many codes for a wireless whisper and corn flatter than it should be, and those chits of leaves gadding with every wind. Small towns from Connecticut to Maine, tss tss. Kind of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Train Window by Lula Ridge, redforlibbervox.org by Chad Horner. Small towns crawling out of their green shirts, tubercular towns coughing a little in the dawn, and the church, there's always a church, with its natty spire and the vestibule, that's where they whisper, tss tss, how many codes for a wireless whisper and corn flatter than it should be, and those chits of leaves gadding with every wind. Small towns from Connecticut to Maine, tss tss, end of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Train Window by Lula Ridge, redforlibbervox.org by David Lawrence. Small towns crawling out of their green shirts, tubercular towns coughing a little in the dawn, and the church, there's always a church, with its natty spire and the vestibule, that's where they whisper, tss tss, how many codes for a wireless whisper and corn flatter than it should be, and those chits of leaves gadding with every wind. Small towns from Connecticut to Maine, tss tss, end of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Train Window by Lula Ridge, redforlibbervox.org by Frank Duncan. Small towns crawling out of their green shirts, tubercular towns coughing a little in the dawn, and the church, there's always a church, with its natty spire and the vestibule, that's where they whisper, tss tss, how many codes for a wireless whisper and corn flatter than it should be, and those chits of leaves gadding with every wind. Small towns from Connecticut to Maine, tss tss, end of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Train Window by Lula Ridge, redforlibbervox.org by Florence Short. Small towns crawling out of their green shirts, tubercular towns coughing a little in the dawn, and the church, there is always a church, with its natty spire and the vestibule, that's where they whisper, tss tss, how many codes for a wireless whisper and corn flatter than it should be, and those chits of leaves gadding with every wind. Small towns from Connecticut to Maine, tss tss, end of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Train Window by Lula Ridge, redforlibbervox.org by Gramescott Cheltenham, England, gramescotaudio.com. Small towns crawling out of their green shirts, tubercular towns coughing a little in the dawn, and the church, there is always a church, with its natty spire and the vestibule, that's where they whisper, tss tss, how many codes for a wireless whisper and corn flatter than it should be, and those chits of leaves gadding with every wind. Small towns from Connecticut to Maine, end of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Train Window by Lula Ridge, redforlibbervox.org by Ian King. Small towns crawling out of their green shirts, tubercular towns coughing a little in the dawn, and the church, there is always a church, with its natty spire and the vestibule, that's where they whisper, tss tss, how many codes for a wireless whisper and corn flatter than it should be, and those chits of leaves gadding with every wind. Small towns from Connecticut to Maine, tss tss, end of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Train Window by Lula Ridge, redforlibbervox.org by Joni Mikowski. Small towns crawling out of their green shirts, tubercular towns coughing a little in the dawn, and the church, there is always a church, with its natty spire and the vestibule, that's where they whisper, tss tss, how many codes for a wireless whisper and corn flatter than it should be, and those chits of leaves gadding with every wind. Small towns from Connecticut to Maine, tss tss, tss tss, end of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Train Window by Lula Ridge, redforlibbervox.org by Leanne Howlett. Small towns crawling out of their green shirts, tubercular towns coughing a little in the dawn, and the church, there is always a church, with its natty spire and the vestibule, that's where they whisper, tss tss, how many codes for a wireless whisper and corn flatter than it should be, and those chits of leaves gadding with every wind. Small towns from Connecticut to Maine, tss tss, end of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Train Window by Lula Ridge, redforlibbervox.org by Larry Wilson. Small towns crawling out of their green shirts, tubercular towns coughing a little in the dawn, and the church, there is always a church, with its natty spire and the vestibule, that's where they whisper, tss tss tss, how many codes for a wireless whisper and corn flatter than it should be, and those chits of leaves gadding with every wind. Small towns from Connecticut to Maine, tss tss tss, end of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Train Window by Lola Ridge, redforlibbervox.org by Nick Zager. Small towns crawling out of their green shirts, tubercular towns coughing a little in the dawn, and the church, there is always a church, with its natty spire and the vestibule, that's where they whisper, tss tss tss, how many codes for a wireless whisper and corn flatter than it should be, and those chits of leaves gadding with every wind. Small towns from Connecticut to Maine, tss tss tss tss tss, end of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Train Window by Lola Ridge, redforlibbervox.org by Robin Ann Rappaport. Small towns crawling out of their green shirts, tubercular towns coughing a little in the dawn, and the church, there is always a church, with its natty spire and the vestibule, that's where they whisper, how many codes for a wireless whisper and corn flatter than it should be, and those chits of leaves gadding with every wind. Small towns from Connecticut to Maine, end of poem. This recording is in the public domain.