Some nights, I can't sleep
so, I go out walking
following the river
in my discomfort and anxiety
All too aware 
of where we're heading
winding towards that war
no one can win

I pass bonfires of guitars
funeral pyres of pianos
strings all snapped
Art must be rationed out, now
There's a faded memory of a song
from long ago
that hopeless refrain, lilts
'these are our final days'

T...

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