The time had changed the rules, the land,
The power came with men to stand,
The greatest game, the show of truth,
So it is called in times of youth.
You see the world, you see its mow
No matter what, no matter how,
You jump and scramble, make an art,
But lose the game just when you start.
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And lose again, just make once more,
And lose you brain, forevermore,
And lose youself forever young,
And lose the game, forever hung.
And lose again, and lose again, and lose again... the game?
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And people get a place for all -
Like beggars, heroes, rogues and stall.
They shout, bleed, they fight and bet,
Spin lies around like a net.
The envy covers soul to soul,
Impatience gets its seeds from all.
And every action, every thought
Imprisoned, fleshy, like big
ot.
They give a birth with dummy aim,
They freak themselves and see the same,
The war at peace, the life through death,
So blind is speaking to the deaf.
The hard reversion of the Gods,
The broken line within a squad,
The splashes in the Hatred Bay,
These are the men. What else to say?