AtLast_[07]

Then, Tit for tat Shit for shat Nelson for the Belsens And on, like that

And on

And on.

From glory world of words To slum, What will this dearth of earth become? Genocidal crown To you, we lay our gauntlet down And vow our souls to God Upon our necks we'll not be trod. Frozen mountain high in airs, Titan queen of frost, beware. Your train of dappled green declines Your claim of regal line. Blind of glint of rising sons One by one another comes Thawed from ice upon your crest As endless trickle does the rest. From ebb of glacier's desolation Springs, anew, creation. Water on the water shed Flows undamned toward river beds Where quakes have changed the land. That's my trade

With spade in hand, To irritate your earth And irrigate it's worth.