This salve, your salvation
A little rebellion
Trust no future
Some reprieve
You call for faith
Art was made to disturb
The world, which seems to lie
Climb the cross of the moment
While humanity is sold in shame
The wolf howls each yellow morning
Stuff wax in my ears
Dying piecemeal
(Or so we argue)�
I'm sick at heart
We have no need for genius
Our discovery ends there
Heroes come back from war
None intact--what will people say?

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