|
Go and look for the dejected |
|
Once proud idol remembered in stone aloud |
|
Then on coins his face was mirrored |
|
Take a look, it soon hath slithered |
|
To a fractured marble slab |
|
Renunciation clad |
|
His nourishment extract from his subjects |
|
That mass production profile |
|
He's a God in an alcove |
|
Once he spread the rain |
|
So they dreamt in vain |
|
Once he spread the wheat |
|
Had made some garlands for his feet |
|
Until the lily poet of our times |
|
Horizoned on the line |
|
Love became the in theme then |
|
Opposing fakers thrice by ten |
|
Don't perceive his empty plea |
|
That redundant effigy |
|
He's a God in an alcove |
|
Take in view his empty stool |
|
What's left is satin cool |
|
Clawing adornment for his crimes |
|
They saw they had to draw the line |
|
So they sent him far away |
|
So they sent him far away |
|
To a little alcove |
|
To a little alcove all alone |
|
He's a God, a God |
|
Now I am silly |
|
Now I am silly |
|
So silly, silly |
|
Silly, silly, silly, silly |
|
Silly, silly |
