I can only hope
To spread and experience
The King of angels

What isn’t experienced
Can’t be spread
Everything else has a cold
And vacant sheen
That once raged deep 
Into the dying of the light

Hitting the keyless key
With my Jupiter finger
Pressing down hard
On what I’m told
I can’t remember or forget

Clap your hands
I’m on a mission
Clap your hands
I’m plotting sub divisions
My impassioned activision
May be my stone cold now submission
Until I come to one day –

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