pile up the parched bones
roll them in parchment
make glue from the cartilage
bond hieroglyphs to soul
when you wake up
i shall take radiographs
bright spots on the nebula
men become idiots
love yourself love a soldier
when i hear the modern slogan
my mental projector starts up
i feel rashes and mosquito bites
in the x-ray of each fresh recruit
will burn the neuronic imagesi carry a pack on my back as if i own it
i've got eyes for cameras
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