Where have all of the good people gone
I’ve dressed the high art part, seen places many will never get to see
Atop Everest when most bellow deep beneath the trembling Hudson Bridge
Tied my dry ribbon oh so manically to this tree of utter hope, my scope seemingly second-to-none
Right about now it does feel as though it might be time for the ultimate comeuppance – shall we attempt to dance once more, prove to them all that what we hold in store is all kinds of otherworldly
Walk over a thousand-and-one such staring somebody’s ’til boxing off our very own moment of magic
When a tragedy somehow lends itself to something rather immaculate – surprisingly so
A trick or two when permitted absolutely none of the above, they do push and they most certain do shove
I suppose the people beneath will crawl their way through the cracks, try and wriggle and squirm ’til blocking out our each and every mesmerising track
If I could I would take all of it back
Please, goddamnit, cut me some slack

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