06.25.08
When we meet again it'll be different
Across the bright golden fields of our spacey dreams
Will come black brigades of icy hurricanes
Down windswept roads of youthful struggle
There will be endless floods; in it the memory of our fortune
And beyond the horizon where the fires of hell burnt in distant fear
The neck of justice will be slashed from ear to ear
The bats that ate our time will fly out into the rolling sky
And I'll follow them
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