30 lines
585 B
Plaintext
30 lines
585 B
Plaintext
the featured
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Opens paths through the hills,
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leaves its mark on the wind,
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the eagle gives flight
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and blanket silence.
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He never complained about the cold,
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He never complained about sleep,
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the poor man feels his way
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and still as blind.
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Correle, Correle, Correlation
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over here, over there, over there,
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I Correle, Correle, correlates,
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I Correle you're going to kill,
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Correle, Correle, correlates.
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His head is crowned
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by ravens with golden claw
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as it has crucified
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the fury of the mighty.
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Son of rebellion
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They follow twenty twenty,
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that gives life
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they will want to kill.
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(1967) 1967 |