The levies turned away;
All of the ready family's summary
Caught in the undertow.
Cause the money's overdue;
The banks are flooding in;
Investors all agrin;
Rending limb from limb.
And I extended latitudes
Of my father's sort,
Meant to move the body on
Through darkness and dawn.
But it remained the same world,
Coming out overdrawn.
Where has it gone?
Sung from shadowed hours.
Is it what we had through the lookin' glass?
Come, these ghosts of ours.
Is it something more than esprit de corps
That we're lookin' for?
So I approached the platitudes
Of my uncle's sort,
In the case that he would know
What a family can sow
In leagues of fallow gardens
With no one taught how to grow.
He stroked his beard and he looked afear'd.
He said, "It's too important, and I know what to do,
Though I'll need some help from you."
I said, "There's little that I wouldn't do."
And he smiled and gestured me on.
We'll carry on!
Main
In the hours at hand?
In a darkness I can't understand
All the words we array
With a language claim this faulty war to be ours?
Or to vault and cast away the darker days to return to gestalt?
Backing
Is it what we had through the lookin' glass?
Is it something more than esprit de corps?
Or in when we vault?
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