For now we drink
From cups of crude offerings
Drawn from the wells
Of those with real sufferings
For now we hold to thoughts
Of great pleasure
Stripped of all worth
All dignity
Who remembers not being Utopian?
On being Utopian
Watch as the children
March in vast numbers
You had the last chance
But chose all the others
From the allure
Of all of your treasures
You're not inclined to think
So you don't remember
Not being Utopian
On being Utopian

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