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| Topic: Extinction | |
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By the time their skies turn to ash
All old men have already become Reptilian relics of lost empires Dead vines climb on their barbwire fences And flies crawl on the pink shirts of their daughters Of course I am convinced That my youth will last forever And ever The age of dinosaurs is ending NOW When your sky burns And you realize that you're not a plastic dashboard deity in the end You too will go back To the sea |
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Great visuals particularly "flies crawl on the pink shirts of their daughters".
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