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Stuffed with volcanic emotion Hallucinating that the sun is the lily-white moon Reaching out to hold it mould it into a utopia that never will be on earth All the while sitting in a fragile packing marked "Handle-with-Care" These extraordinary human parcels of skeletal wings facing a fiery death And ultimate extinction because the sun is not the lily-white moon. And now even the earth becomes the sun A furnace which will first consume fragile parcels marked "Handle-with-Care" And last The Consciences of Coins
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