A huddled mass under a cross
Arms at his side bent at the knees
Seek out a pulse, recon, retreat
Do not interact, do not relieve
There’s something here, it’s overgrown
Don’t say you can’t feel
The great stillborn air, just look around
As all the lights have blackened out
Buildings spill out into the streets
Deep in a well the children sleep
The insects, they swarm around the weak
We are servants to a fatal flaw
Descend, descend
There’s nothing here, seeds left unsown
Don’t say you can’t feel
The great stillborn air
Are we merely here to bear witness to the fall?
Your majesty has gone
Your majesty has gone
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