meet my friends
on the wasted heath
and an excursion to
the world beneath
yielded skulls and bones
and corroded crowns which
we took turns in wearing
the brothers stopped
in the parks and in
the lakes we threw
our lines a fishing
there i sat and
some of us moved by
that forever wishing
let nothing stop
god let nothing stop
but also let nothing pass
i shall come and all
shall come and tomorra
would be today
i would have made my choice
all these pals and peeps
from overseas is
so much air traffic
winds that blow in
and give the townsfolk
nights can't dream of sleep
and much to drink
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