Twelfth Night
Smiling at Grie
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Kindergarden

everything is beautiful, yes everything is allright
a mob of raging lunatics runs screaming into the night
foreign thoughts promoted to the status of our own
weeping weeds like mama's boys to things we've never known

kindergarden, play a game

power plays still lingering, your portrait on the walls
a sterile gas of advertising staves off curtain calls
whatever else is happening to the states that we all know
put too much strain on weaknesses and something has to go

kindergarden, play a game

tomorrow's world is evil if it seeds herself today
for all the world is other children say there is no way
time enough for everything, yes all the time in the world
we can face up to the future with certificates unfurled

kindergarden, play a game

kindergarden, play a game

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