Oh should we hear the sound of
Many nations fall, as the mere
Descendents of brotherly raindrops
That have arrived from
Gray worlds above and nearby
Though this earth shall be
Engulfed with black waters of
Sin and dark pleasures
May the golden angel see, come forth and
Tell all of the known shameful endeavors
Ruined and weak the
Cities whisper with broken
Dancers and jesters of the sick remedies, who
Sleep peacefully in their jewelry boxes of
Askew melodies
Shall the morning dew become
What is a close friend, iced to the skin, and
May the world see the nations, as the
Out of tune black and white piano keys
Played under the delicate fingers, of
The golden angel, not taken from
God or Satan
Call yourself the stranger
The child of nothing extraordinary
Or may you be the angel of gold
Sent with a destiny, to
Save this time and fable
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