They smell your mouth,
Lest you've said "I love you."
They search your heart,
These are strange times my dear...

They whip love,
Beneath every lamp post,
Infront of every barbed wire,
They **** love a thousand times
And a thousand times more...

We must hide it in the darkest rooms of our house;
Within every cold, crooked and twisted dead end they extinguish
the fires of joy and poetry.

Do not risk thinking's danger;
These are strange times my dear...