Underneath in the shadows the underclass meet ,
lean their heads to hear the laughter peal off the souls of the desperate
come face to face with nebulous grace flickering in the eve,
Without exception, transforming the gloom with midsummer swoon to last the winter thru,
cooling the questions that are ringing
reality, seems to be, hallucinating in a surreal art gallery
stretching fibres wider than the prairie lands
All the while you can feel the breeze from some meteorlogical origin
cooling the questions that are ringing.
as politics pull, cut and run out of the waste,
out of the the loops that have been bought, not thought thru
out of supporting the flukes mentality
In the air of answers,
cooling the questions that are ringing.
outside of the emotions that leave you stinging,
cooling the questions that are ringing.
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