Monday, June 26, 2006

Stockholm

And in the dreaming darkness
Things are born, grow up,
And old, and die.
Master won't think you less
if you hide, shut up,
Tremble, and cry.

You've never left the shadows
Don't see, won't leave,
Can't feel the sky.
There's things you'll never know
Lying truly to deceive,
Your head held high.

And when they open up the cell,
Take Master far from home
All you'll do is sigh.
You'll find a brand new kind of hell,
Trapped inside your syndrome,
Grow old, and die.

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