"Of a fire"

By
Playin around on borrowed time,
Consumed in narrow pantomime
Till the shadows come, till the sun departs
Till the maker and the breaks apart

You may be with death in the fiery hell
And so you know inside
Till you find the leaves in the west wind
Till you are happy when you cry.

And all shall be free
And all shall be free

Tomorrow and the next day
Created and destroyed
Bought, sold and distorted
Made and restored.





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