kids
sitting in a unforgotten city landscape
treading
on tough waves of water to get to their homeland
written
by the telegraph printer
watching
the information I see on the screen
I
have to speak their language
understand
their words
consider
the fractions and numerals
time
has spent itself for me and I'm looking back
into
the flames of dishonesty
waiting
for the moment to arrive
she
loves me, she loves me not
the
same old story, everywhere I sit
leaving
a mark on the grass
I
know where I can stand
where
the boutique is and the essence takes hold
do I
ask how bored you must be by now
there's
nothing like that to fuel the burn
limping
and lusting and tumbling around
alone
in a group of many, understand the sound
the
light turns green, we walk together
hand-in-hand
and we should all get better
better
off than it is now
crumbs
on my table, no fool can tell
enough
of this ancient land, lets go to town
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