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Flandres, the flag of agony in thee I raise
The bravest scapes thy land survails
In me seek the darkest and the mad man
The sad crab cracks its nest
Against a backdoor saloon chest
My avenue stew mind philanthropy
Resolutions crust signs in my sight
And by my side Rosemary glinks and blides
Preparing my bedroom earing for
The day of the land lord sore
And than again the boots are crooked
The spirit is fulled and dream ain’t no avenue
Scooped you will feel and your brain got to be in a grill
While your smile resents some breakfast lamb
When the door doesn´t call you hence
Your feet ain’t gonna lick the garden  fence

Standing there the man and his black cloak
A shield spelling what spells seen to sell
Glasses clink telling whatever you ain’t bring
To the ceremony that makes you feel lonely
Chain your pony slowly for it’s holy
Now hear the voice in a big bang noise
Shooting swords like darts of joke
Seeking and begging thrilling candies
Whispering the grace, listen Sam, the grey taste
It’s your blamed race and it's you the same.
Drag down from tears and rage
sparckles of thin irracional bounds
and claws of iron
Spirit, holiness
Your soul slips withdraw
while your mind begs you
one moment of surrender

"Don´t you weep, child"
Great, big mother giving you
some kinda plate, and than you
realize that your acceptance
is huge and dry
But it´s there all the time
even when you don´t miss it
or force yourself to believe

Great circle of majesty and beauty
purple sparks and black wood-made
saddles, besides and covering the home
of an ancient dark goddess
"oh! please don´t stare Her"
she´d make you promise and
sweat your sins outta yer closet
that tiny and hidden one
where there’ll always be soft
and shiny pieces of silk
Though, you forgot then until
the time you touched it and chilled.

— The End —