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Go and look for the dejected once proud |
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Idol remembered in stone aloud |
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Then on coins his face was mirrored |
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Take a look it soon hath slithered |
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To a fractured marble slab, renunciation clad |
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His nourishment extract from his subjects |
|
That mass production profile |
|
He's a God- in- in an alcove |
|
Once he spread the rain |
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So they dreamt in vain |
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Once he spread the wheat |
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Had made garlands for his feet |
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Until the lily poet of our times |
|
Horizoned on the line |
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Love became the in theme then |
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Opposing fakers thrice by ten |
|
Don't perceive his empty plea |
|
That redundant effigy |
|
He's a God- in- in an alcove |
|
Take in view his empty stool |
|
What's left is satin cool |
|
Clawing adornment for his crimes |
|
They saw they had to draw the line |
|
So they sent him far away |
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So they sent him far away |
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To a little alcove |
|
To a little alcove |
|
All alone |
|
He's a God, a God |
|
Now I am silly |
|
Now I am silly |
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Silly, silly, silly, silly |
|
Silly |
