complacent in our worlds
never covet other shoes
the fit's all wrong
too wide, too long
we've soured to curdled news
nothing knew everything
we all fit to the tide
no sticks or stones
just bombs for thrones
and we drown on either side
ideas light the bulb
but power's fled the storm
it's all been lost
accept the cost
prescribe to feed the norm
when he reigned it poured
who's left the war to win
the young to mourn
forlorn and worn
when do the saints go marching in?
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