| My Kingdom for a conversation…
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| These lands are far from silent
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| Resounding with the tumult of the dead:
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| No words awash with depth or concepts wiser than unwise
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| All notions of sanity are laid to rest within walking drones
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| The living lifeless, straw men set to burn
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| No cures.
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| No means to inject sense into the senseless
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| No Hope
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| Medicine to the dead
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| And forward without foresight, further down a destructive path
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| Step to a future in flame
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| The exchange of thought and communication for heedless instinct will leave us
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| charred, not merely shamed
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| Left in a woe fused with wrath
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| No cures
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| None who believe to be well will ever be healed
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| Nor the sick who dare to speak outside the realm of reason
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| A hospice in vain dispensing medicine to the dead
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| Our kingdom is lost
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| Crack open the stiffened mouths of the skulls
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| Delight in the breaks
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| Overdose the dead with proven remedies
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| And we remain no less hopeless
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| We live among the fiercely ignorant and irrational
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| There is reason to fear
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| Among the fiercely ignorant there is always reason to fear
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| The blind and sick and mad believe they are sane
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| My kingdom for a conversation
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| Our kingdom is lost |