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HED SHOPPE

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Refusing Reality
Ghost Of A Chance
Brain In A Jar
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Whisper Recoil
Hidden in a Guess
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MAD SCIENTISTS

Their;

Un-Living, Living

Prowling The Land

Survive The Winter

As The Living Cannot

While To Figure

Was What, Next

To Do…

——

…A Bride

MAD SCIENTISTS

Their;

Un-Living, Living

The Created

Prowling The Land

Survive The Winter

While To Figure

Was What, Next

To Do…

——

…A Bride

 

We Watch From Shadow

Outside Of Sight

And Wait For The Moment

When The Time Is Right…

Without Letting Them Know

We Are Alive

We Are The Living Ones

Our Smiles Seem Sad

Our Time Still Plays

Plays Out Like A Long Sad Dirge

Muted Songs Of Happiness

Echo Through  The Ever

Like A Single Note

Living A Hundred Years

And Smiling

Through Dark Fears…

…We Are The Living Ones

Wandered Through, A Milling Throng

Of People

Even If I Had A Map

All These People From

Different Times, Different Places

Different Paths…

Still, Did A Few Walks Around

The Thundering Of Beautiful Bass Drums

A Moving Beat, Of Celtic Being,

And Stringed Instruments

Perfect Enough To Reach

A Meeting With an Overcast Sky;

Which It’s Self Was Welcomed

Stages Spaced Enough

And, Timed Enough

To Not Interfere With Each Other;

Now Falcon Flight

Some Not Trusted

As May End Up Many Miles Away

Endangered Species

Being Brought Back

So,

Conservation And Education

Key,

All And All

I’d Go Again

Into That Madness And

Enjoyed The Fire Eater

As He Pardoned Himself

As It Had Become Time 

To Grab A Beer

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