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It's about how history repeats itself and the uselessness of attempting change the future. |
| One who is smoke must burn bright For the darkening hallows of the night Overtake one's ivory sacrifice and whim And leaves one within cages made of black, black lights Cover your shoes with the green of envy Your neighbour will exclaim "It's the enemy!" You will kneel before his blind judgement Just like all those before your wise originality Gift your sons with purple visage mountaintops He'll thank you kindly with his bucket and mop But the water wil be salted with continuity And your new shelves will be filled with rot Dress your barmaid with the pen you forgot She does not know better than the final dot. She has lines and lines of paragliding waitresses Dining within her yellow washed iron pot |