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And words of |
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Romans |
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creep in |
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Not written but vengeful |
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The dead are in the tortoise |
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The dead are in their legions |
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And the Trojan ponies trot by |
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Graze My Little Pony |
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Is there Torture in the Toybox? |
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Or is this eternal Rome? |
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Or is this infernal Rome? |
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Before Black Ships were built |
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In their harbours |
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For gathering vau vau vau |
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Electronic sixsixsix |
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Black Ship Ship Ship |
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Black Ship Ship Ship |
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Volvaic and marine |
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Slaughterer disguised as honey |
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Babel Babylon is burbling with blowfly speech |
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Stuttering channeled messages of birdsight in the Empire |
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And where is that Empire now? |
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Imperium! Christendom! |
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Shepherd and Hermes! |
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Masked with salt and stars |
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Heavybreasted false Messiah |
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Peachfaced murderer |
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Dragging beasts and breasts |
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Skipping to Armageddon |
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In time for tea |
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And for the weather forecast |
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Falling time smiles fading |
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As Black Ships sneak by |
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Raiding lying stars |
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Barbecuing living streams |
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Of all the smiles that come shafting |
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Saturn or moon or sun |
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Is that my lunch you're eating on the back of Dracon? |
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Is that my cup clipped to the bird's gaudy wing? |
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Black Ships are camouflaged as postmen or bureaucrats |
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They have delivered a loathing rapture prospect |
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Keys to Heaven Gates are dark |
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On side of sons and daughters |
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But they have lied about Pi |
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That number does not repeat to the infinite sky |
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But is carousel inhabited by all the revenants |
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Returning to fulfilled wires |
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And use the roots that fall |
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From the sectarian Empire |
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The nude face striped back |
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The naked grey mouse |
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Was not in bleached equations |
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Christ! Christ! Christ! |
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Where is the tide? |
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The long low roar of the Thames? |
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The shell-shocked Seals |
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Killer! Flower! Coil! |
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There's crisis in the harbours |
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The desert is too close |
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Though we have seen it in our hearts |
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At Black Ship time |
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So let's lock the doors |