It’s quiet in the echo chamber
New ideas fade away
obsolescence, acquiescence
I hear the dreams of yesterday
Fading, gnawing
God shaped holes
People For Huge Tracts o'Land
It’s quiet in the echo chamber
New ideas fade away
obsolescence, acquiescence
I hear the dreams of yesterday
Fading, gnawing
God shaped holes
In fields of night we train awaiting the oligarchs plight.
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And some the cost despite take their plot in broad daylight.
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