Muted...
There are words, but we speak them loudly;
These are times where the scarecrow grins;
We were mute, but now have voice;
The scarecrow laughs, and we hate him;
We were mute, and we looked for words;
Found some and parroted it from the sky;
Kuark, Kuark;
Noisy leh...
Beat down the scarecrow with a clod of clay;
Tear him, rip him, burn him up;
Ashes to ashes, and when the fires cool,
We found nothing, just soot and dust.
These are times where the scarecrow grins;
We were mute, but now have voice;
The scarecrow laughs, and we hate him;
We were mute, and we looked for words;
Found some and parroted it from the sky;
Kuark, Kuark;
Noisy leh...
Beat down the scarecrow with a clod of clay;
Tear him, rip him, burn him up;
Ashes to ashes, and when the fires cool,
We found nothing, just soot and dust.
i like this. nice.
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